We part, from time to time,
and travel two roads in this green world.
I return first and find
the grass tall, the garden unruly,
the house quiet, an unfamiliar smell.
When I turn old, all I hope for
is the sight of you on the country lane
walking back
to make it home.
7.01.2013
6.08.2013
Herb Power: find your wild ally this summer
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.
12.30.2012
A plant's perspective on the herbalist's work
In my dream last night, I was walking with an old friend. We were making our way through overgrown meadows, along a stream that drained a big pond. A thicket of small trees and sumac came up on the left, and my friend walked in, all of a sudden very excited. He called to me to follow. He was looking for a plant he'd seen there, one he wanted to show me, one he was thrilled to have found. In that state of semi-lucidity so often encountered in dreams, I though to myself "ooh, a plant dream. This is going to be good." I got a little excited too. He pulled some brush aside, and there, in moist rich soil a few feet from the stream, was a tiny burdock plant. I remember looking at him like "you've got to be kidding me."
He proceeded to tell me all about how he'd been waiting so long for burdock to return to this land, how wonderful and special a plant it is, how it digs deep magic out of the hardest places, how it brings just the right kind of moisture to the skin. I wasn't too impressed, but I indulged him - after all, he was an old friend I hadn't seen in a long, long time, and he was apparently talking about an old friend of his that he hadn't seen in a long, long time either...
When I woke up, I spent a good while solidifying this dream in my mind. Because, in the end, I actually think it's a pretty good reminder for me. Yes, it's important to remember that even our more "common", weedy herbs are useful and deserve attention. But what lingered most in my early-morning consciousness was the feeling, just the raw feeling, that the burdock baby had projected when my friend approached it with so much love and reverence. How it beamed when it heard him speak the words describing its virtues. I wondered how other burdocks might feel when, maligned by dairy farmers, they are burnt, beaten, and otherwise berated.
The herbalist's role in the ecology is that of a connector. We often focus on how we help people in need - reconnecting them to nature, to old friends, to missing pieces. But what of the other side of the link? Many talk about how important it is to offer thanks to the plants we use, to approach them with my friend's reverence and respect, to ensure that they remain abundant (for more on this work, please see United Plant Savers if you haven't already). But although I often approach plants with the attitude that I am a grateful recipient of their power and wisdom, I also have to remember that they get a lot out of our work with them, too. Some, like burdock or plantain, yarrow or red clover, love us so much that when we leave, they start to weaken and disappear too. Herbalists are connectors that bring life and love to both sides of the human-plant relationship. It's an age-old tale.
It reminds me of a little piece I wrote a long time ago. I dug it out this morning (hand-written stuff needs to be hand-searched). Forgive the poor poetry - it represents an honest sentiment.
Herbal medicine is like the seasons, true -
disperse, heat, harvest, crystallize -
but what the plants prefer is the analogy
to see the human point of view. They want to feel
as much as we do
and I believe we heal their souls: we send their seed
to fertile land, black and well-tilled,
rich and smelling of deep loam;
we call their spirits out, in the glades
where, wild, they whistle through the wood;
we prepare them,
painstakingly,
moving their breath to effect good.
In all this, we wonder at how well
the herb has fit into the whole design:
like this, like that, Nature and our Essence
seem to map each others' paths. This wonder
keeps us strong, and there is no greater cure for our kind.
But where we admire the content, a flower
holds the structure dear: it gains strength
from being compared, related, applied and synergized:
the course to herbal medicine is clear!
He proceeded to tell me all about how he'd been waiting so long for burdock to return to this land, how wonderful and special a plant it is, how it digs deep magic out of the hardest places, how it brings just the right kind of moisture to the skin. I wasn't too impressed, but I indulged him - after all, he was an old friend I hadn't seen in a long, long time, and he was apparently talking about an old friend of his that he hadn't seen in a long, long time either...When I woke up, I spent a good while solidifying this dream in my mind. Because, in the end, I actually think it's a pretty good reminder for me. Yes, it's important to remember that even our more "common", weedy herbs are useful and deserve attention. But what lingered most in my early-morning consciousness was the feeling, just the raw feeling, that the burdock baby had projected when my friend approached it with so much love and reverence. How it beamed when it heard him speak the words describing its virtues. I wondered how other burdocks might feel when, maligned by dairy farmers, they are burnt, beaten, and otherwise berated.
The herbalist's role in the ecology is that of a connector. We often focus on how we help people in need - reconnecting them to nature, to old friends, to missing pieces. But what of the other side of the link? Many talk about how important it is to offer thanks to the plants we use, to approach them with my friend's reverence and respect, to ensure that they remain abundant (for more on this work, please see United Plant Savers if you haven't already). But although I often approach plants with the attitude that I am a grateful recipient of their power and wisdom, I also have to remember that they get a lot out of our work with them, too. Some, like burdock or plantain, yarrow or red clover, love us so much that when we leave, they start to weaken and disappear too. Herbalists are connectors that bring life and love to both sides of the human-plant relationship. It's an age-old tale.
It reminds me of a little piece I wrote a long time ago. I dug it out this morning (hand-written stuff needs to be hand-searched). Forgive the poor poetry - it represents an honest sentiment.
Herbal medicine is like the seasons, true -
disperse, heat, harvest, crystallize -
but what the plants prefer is the analogy
to see the human point of view. They want to feel
as much as we do
and I believe we heal their souls: we send their seed
to fertile land, black and well-tilled,
rich and smelling of deep loam;
we call their spirits out, in the glades
where, wild, they whistle through the wood;
we prepare them,
painstakingly,
moving their breath to effect good.
In all this, we wonder at how well
the herb has fit into the whole design:
like this, like that, Nature and our Essence
seem to map each others' paths. This wonder
keeps us strong, and there is no greater cure for our kind.
But where we admire the content, a flower
holds the structure dear: it gains strength
from being compared, related, applied and synergized:
the course to herbal medicine is clear!
11.22.2012
Old skills and gratitude
In the hills north of Montpelier, Vermont a small group of folks (some of them are herbalists too, studying at our school) are teaching skills humans have possessed for a long, long time. The Roots School instructors have been mastering tracking, tool-making, weapon-crafting, fire-summoning, fiber-spinning, hide-tanning and more (see it all here: http://www.rootsvt.com/skills).
Many people are interested in these traditional approaches to meet the basic needs of life. Why is this? Does learning this stuff have any inherent value?
First off, taking the example of stone knives and spears, it would seem that we've had these skills for a very, very long time. Most recently, Jayne Wilkins of the University of Toronto dated spear tips from South Africa to 500,000 years ago. Along with running (I'm biased) and cooking (so reliant on fire-making magic), these skills might actually be a defining element of what makes us human.
While these technologies are definitely more environmentally conscious, it is not a given that they don't have consequences on our ecology. Take, for instance, the plight of the woolly mammoths and their feelings about these spears. Or look at Ireland - humans deforested the island, and may also have created a fossil fuel reserve - peat - thereby. So I don't think we can clearly state that these skills are somehow valuable because they don't "adversely" impact the world around us. Very often, they do - and this impact can locally rival that of our modern technologies.
So maybe a clear line can't be drawn: technology is simply technology. Or is it?
Before getting a litter deeper into the value of primitive technologies, it's worth thinking about why, at the very least, we shouldn't abandon them completely. There is obvious historical and anthropological value to retaining some of these abilities - it would be a shame, for instance, if we forgot how to track animals through the wilderness (even though, ostensibly, we don't actually need to do that anymore). But beyond this, there is another reasons why institutions such as the Roots School are useful: primarily, the tools work. Pants made from tanned leather last a really long time and protect really well. Stone knives are super-sharp and useful for a variety of jobs. Bows make excellent hunting and fishing tools. Additionally, all these crafts are not somehow less "sophisticated" than gore-tex, metal carbide, or rifles. It often takes more skill and know-how to make a really excellent primitive tool than it does a modern one, and it can take a lifetime to learn all the intricacies. An expert flint-knapper has spent more time on her craft than a Ph.D. has spent on theoretical physics. So at the very least, I am grateful that someone has gone to the trouble to preserve these skills for us as a species.
But I'd have to go further, and say that traditional skills have their own inherent value as stand-alone disciplines, not simply as historical artifacts. It's interesting to me that this older tech uses an interface between our human "wetware" and its surrounding ecology that is straightforward, minimally processed, and manual-labor-intensive. That is to say, primitive skills rely on natural materials and human hands, and are based (by necessity) on a broad understanding of the ecology and its patterns to be successful. Modern technologies often rely on refined materials transported over long distances and the use of intermediate machinery. So the big difference, I think, is the degree to which the tools we use are abstracted from our daily experience: children quickly grasp how a stone knife is made (though actually making it is a lot tougher), whereas understanding a circular saw is trickier. Again, this doesn't mean the knife is less sophisticated. It simply has a more direct story. Its complexity lies in skill depth, rather than theoretical specificity. I am very grateful that someone still knows how to take a simple process and spend a long, long time exploring it with their hands and bodies.
If you compare a martial art and a gun, the distinction becomes unarguably clear. They are both complicated tools, but in very different ways. Both can kill - but it takes a lot longer to learn how by studying a martial art than it does by studying firearms. This is the tradeoff. What you sacrifice in time to learn the skill you gain in ethos, which is part of depth. It seems that we value technology differently when it is directly understandable, minimally processed, and labor-intensive. That different valuation connects to greater involvement, empowerment, and responsibility. We stop doing things by proxy. The process associated with the use of a technology becomes as important as the tool it creates, or the outcome it engenders. It's about the journey, not the destination. It's about how you play the game.
Herbalism, of course, represents the primitive skill of medicine. It has all the qualities we've explored: it's something a child can quickly understand, uses crude natural materials, and relies on individual labor (even if you're using ready-made tinctures or teas, the process of choosing them takes a long time. And the client has to do a lot of work to use them - relatively speaking). It changes our environmental ethos (shifting the perception of what to do with weeds, for instance). It is focused on process at all levels, though it still provides useful outcomes. For all these reasons, it is a valuable technology in the context of human health and, as with other primitive skills, cannot be dismissed as obsolete. I am most grateful to be a part of the tribe that has held and cultivated herbal medicine, and that I get to use this skill in my life every day. What a blessing.
Ultimately, old tech is different, and for some interesting (though not immediately obvious) reasons. When dealing directly with the messy, organic system of the human being and her surrounding environment, old tech might actually still be the better choice. When considering abstraction, verbal communication, neocortex-intensive-applications (which are by definition a bit more removed from the wet organic mess around and inside us), modern tech seems to shine. But when we approach old processes, like the workings of vital organs, the key to optimal, meaningful function is turned by old tech. Musicians (and vinyl enthusiasts) know this. Stonemasons know this. Many visual artists do as well. I am hopeful that our culture will take the lessons of primitive skills, including herbal medicine, as directions on our trail towards the future, towards progress. And I am grateful that any such trail will most likely be lined with dandelions.
Many people are interested in these traditional approaches to meet the basic needs of life. Why is this? Does learning this stuff have any inherent value?
First off, taking the example of stone knives and spears, it would seem that we've had these skills for a very, very long time. Most recently, Jayne Wilkins of the University of Toronto dated spear tips from South Africa to 500,000 years ago. Along with running (I'm biased) and cooking (so reliant on fire-making magic), these skills might actually be a defining element of what makes us human.
 | |||
| Stone knife - ROOTS School |
 |
| Stone-tipped spears, South Africa. Photo: Jayne Wilkins |
While these technologies are definitely more environmentally conscious, it is not a given that they don't have consequences on our ecology. Take, for instance, the plight of the woolly mammoths and their feelings about these spears. Or look at Ireland - humans deforested the island, and may also have created a fossil fuel reserve - peat - thereby. So I don't think we can clearly state that these skills are somehow valuable because they don't "adversely" impact the world around us. Very often, they do - and this impact can locally rival that of our modern technologies.
So maybe a clear line can't be drawn: technology is simply technology. Or is it?
Before getting a litter deeper into the value of primitive technologies, it's worth thinking about why, at the very least, we shouldn't abandon them completely. There is obvious historical and anthropological value to retaining some of these abilities - it would be a shame, for instance, if we forgot how to track animals through the wilderness (even though, ostensibly, we don't actually need to do that anymore). But beyond this, there is another reasons why institutions such as the Roots School are useful: primarily, the tools work. Pants made from tanned leather last a really long time and protect really well. Stone knives are super-sharp and useful for a variety of jobs. Bows make excellent hunting and fishing tools. Additionally, all these crafts are not somehow less "sophisticated" than gore-tex, metal carbide, or rifles. It often takes more skill and know-how to make a really excellent primitive tool than it does a modern one, and it can take a lifetime to learn all the intricacies. An expert flint-knapper has spent more time on her craft than a Ph.D. has spent on theoretical physics. So at the very least, I am grateful that someone has gone to the trouble to preserve these skills for us as a species.
But I'd have to go further, and say that traditional skills have their own inherent value as stand-alone disciplines, not simply as historical artifacts. It's interesting to me that this older tech uses an interface between our human "wetware" and its surrounding ecology that is straightforward, minimally processed, and manual-labor-intensive. That is to say, primitive skills rely on natural materials and human hands, and are based (by necessity) on a broad understanding of the ecology and its patterns to be successful. Modern technologies often rely on refined materials transported over long distances and the use of intermediate machinery. So the big difference, I think, is the degree to which the tools we use are abstracted from our daily experience: children quickly grasp how a stone knife is made (though actually making it is a lot tougher), whereas understanding a circular saw is trickier. Again, this doesn't mean the knife is less sophisticated. It simply has a more direct story. Its complexity lies in skill depth, rather than theoretical specificity. I am very grateful that someone still knows how to take a simple process and spend a long, long time exploring it with their hands and bodies.
If you compare a martial art and a gun, the distinction becomes unarguably clear. They are both complicated tools, but in very different ways. Both can kill - but it takes a lot longer to learn how by studying a martial art than it does by studying firearms. This is the tradeoff. What you sacrifice in time to learn the skill you gain in ethos, which is part of depth. It seems that we value technology differently when it is directly understandable, minimally processed, and labor-intensive. That different valuation connects to greater involvement, empowerment, and responsibility. We stop doing things by proxy. The process associated with the use of a technology becomes as important as the tool it creates, or the outcome it engenders. It's about the journey, not the destination. It's about how you play the game.
Herbalism, of course, represents the primitive skill of medicine. It has all the qualities we've explored: it's something a child can quickly understand, uses crude natural materials, and relies on individual labor (even if you're using ready-made tinctures or teas, the process of choosing them takes a long time. And the client has to do a lot of work to use them - relatively speaking). It changes our environmental ethos (shifting the perception of what to do with weeds, for instance). It is focused on process at all levels, though it still provides useful outcomes. For all these reasons, it is a valuable technology in the context of human health and, as with other primitive skills, cannot be dismissed as obsolete. I am most grateful to be a part of the tribe that has held and cultivated herbal medicine, and that I get to use this skill in my life every day. What a blessing.
Ultimately, old tech is different, and for some interesting (though not immediately obvious) reasons. When dealing directly with the messy, organic system of the human being and her surrounding environment, old tech might actually still be the better choice. When considering abstraction, verbal communication, neocortex-intensive-applications (which are by definition a bit more removed from the wet organic mess around and inside us), modern tech seems to shine. But when we approach old processes, like the workings of vital organs, the key to optimal, meaningful function is turned by old tech. Musicians (and vinyl enthusiasts) know this. Stonemasons know this. Many visual artists do as well. I am hopeful that our culture will take the lessons of primitive skills, including herbal medicine, as directions on our trail towards the future, towards progress. And I am grateful that any such trail will most likely be lined with dandelions.
10.28.2012
Excerpts from Carmina Gadelica
Around the turn of the 20th century, Alexander Carmichael collected poems, hymns and incantations from the Scottish highlands into a six-volume compendium that includes both (extensive) Christian and Pagan verses. The digitized edition of Volume II includes a number of gems, with facing text in the original Gaelic. Here are some excerpts:
THE YARROW
I will pluck the yarrow fair
That more benign shall be my face
That more warm shall be my lips
That more chaste shall be my speech
Be my speech the beams of the sun
Be my lips the sap of the strawberry
May I be an isle in the sea
May I be a hill on the shore
May I be a star in the dark time
May I be a staff to the weak
Wound can I every man
Wound can no man me
SAINT JOHN'S WORT
Saint John's wort Saint John's wort
My envy whosoever has thee
I will pluck thee with my right hand
I will preserve thee with my left hand
Whoso findeth thee in the cattle fold
Shall never be without kine
THE CLUB MOSS
The club moss is on my person
No harm nor mishap can me befall
No sprite shall slay me no arrow shall wound me
No fay nor dun water nymph shall tear me
THE SHAMROCK OF LUCK
Thou shamrock of good omens
Beneath the bank growing
Whereon stood the gracious Mary.
The seven joys are,
Without evil trace,
On thee peerless one
Of the sunbeams:
Joy of health
Joy of friends
Joy of kine
Joy of sheep
Joy of sons and Daughters fair
Joy of peace
Joy of God
The four leaves of the straight stem
Of the straight stem from the root of the hundred rootlets
Thou shamrock of promise on Mary's Day,
Bounty and blessing thou art at all times.
THE YARROW
I will pluck the yarrow fair
That more benign shall be my face
That more warm shall be my lips
That more chaste shall be my speech
Be my speech the beams of the sun
Be my lips the sap of the strawberry
May I be an isle in the sea
May I be a hill on the shore
May I be a star in the dark time
May I be a staff to the weak
Wound can I every man
Wound can no man me
SAINT JOHN'S WORT
Saint John's wort Saint John's wort
My envy whosoever has thee
I will pluck thee with my right hand
I will preserve thee with my left hand
Whoso findeth thee in the cattle fold
Shall never be without kine
THE CLUB MOSS
The club moss is on my person
No harm nor mishap can me befall
No sprite shall slay me no arrow shall wound me
No fay nor dun water nymph shall tear me
THE SHAMROCK OF LUCK
Thou shamrock of good omens
Beneath the bank growing
Whereon stood the gracious Mary.
The seven joys are,
Without evil trace,
On thee peerless one
Of the sunbeams:
Joy of health
Joy of friends
Joy of kine
Joy of sheep
Joy of sons and Daughters fair
Joy of peace
Joy of God
The four leaves of the straight stem
Of the straight stem from the root of the hundred rootlets
Thou shamrock of promise on Mary's Day,
Bounty and blessing thou art at all times.
10.19.2012
Kevin Spelman - molecular bio of immunomodulators
From the AHG symposium
Immunomodulators: botanical medicines that through the dynamical regulation of informational molecules alter the activity of the immune systems.
Cytokines and the cytokine theory of disease (Czura, CJ 2005): overproduction of cytokines can cause the clinical manifestations of disease. But it can begin on an emotional level (anger/shame as opposed to medidative states) - then as cytokines levels increase, disease manifests: first depression, pain, anorexia. Then, psoriasis, colitis. Then, tissue damage and arthritis. Finally, shock and organ failure.
Tumor necrosis factor (TNF) and other cytokines like Epidermal Growth Factor stimulate a series of intracellular changes that ultimately have effects in the nucleus - on genetic expression. When, in researching botanicals, we look at the nucleus, we're getting somewhere.
Paul Ridker MD 2002: "It may be possible that having a high cytokine response in our evolutionary past served us well, when our lifespan was 35-40 years. Insulin resistance might have been useful (to prevent starvation). Not so anymore."
The effect of cytokines depends on the cell secreting it (lymphocytes, monocytes, etc) and the physiological context in which they are secreted. They are "immune hormones". Subtypes:
-interleukins, which have profound effects on inflammation, immunity, central nervous systems, hormone secretions (esp. ACTH, corticoids), they drive antibody response.
-interferons, which are the first line of defense against viruses. They are also cytotoxic, disrupt sleep and HPA axis, stimulate fever-like response.
-colony stimulation factors, which affect cell motility and proliferation, wound healing, inflammation, and hematopoiesis
-chemokines, which stimulate chemotaxis, immune function, inflammation.
Cytokines are versatile. They have different roles, redundancy, synergy and antagonism, and can be autocrine, paracrine, or systemic in their actions. Cytokine receptors are membrane bound, though some are freely floating and act as an activating complex. They are secreted and produced for short periods of time, with little storage and tight regulation of production, and super-short half-lives - "like fireflies".
Normal physiologic functions that induce cytokine production are sleep (to repair/renew) and ovulation. Production in healthy tissue is minimal. Microbial infection, other cytokines, stress, corticoids, histamine all stimulate cytokines as well. "This is why hayfever can actually make you feel really sick".
We are attempting to exploit cytokines pharmacologically. Stimulate, inhibit, block, activate. Herbal medicines have been doing this for a long time. For example, now we use interferon for hepatitis, melanoma, lymphoma. TNF-alpha inhibitors are used for rheumatoid arthritis. Interleukins and interleukin inhibitors are used for asthma modulation, to reduce the risk of Alzheimers.
What about further, bigger thinking on cytokine use? They're implicated in all chronic, age-related, inflammatory diseases. They travel broadly throughout the body. They may also have huge behavioral effects (if we buy in to the psycho-neuro-immunology - PNI - model). Why do we get grumpy when we have the flu? Cytokines. But the behavior also isolates us, separating us from the herd, to protect our peers from infection.
Liver, heart, vessel walls, and adipose tissue all produce cytokines, and may contribute to the etiology of cardiovascular disease. The liver is dear to herbalists - for so many good reasons.
Diseases such as anorexia, schizophrenia, depression, Alzheimer's all show high plasma levels of cytokines. These can be directly measured (though the tests are expensive right now). What we still need clarity on is defining the normal range (which right now is super-wide). Maybe we can get there through genetic medicine, by refining the "normal" depending on genome. Herbalists, however, have always had a good differentiating tool: the constitution. Perhaps pitta people, for instance, exhibit higher "normal" ranges of cytokines.
Adhesion molecules (cellular adhesion molecules - CAMs) are immunoglobulin superfamily CAMs (IgSF - CD-x cell surface receptors), integrins, cadherins, selectins. They are involved in embryonic development, neuro development, tissue adhesion, and expressed by leukocytes, platelets, epithelial and endothelial cells. They maintain tissue integrity, and recruit cells to tissues. They have a critical role to play in pathology, cancer. There are higher levels in those at risk for heart attacks. They may also be involved in behavior - though the research is preliminary (Walzog, B 2000).
The conformation of adhesion molecules - extended versus bent - has an important role to play in the ability of adhesion molecules to function.
Adhesion molecules are important in inflammation - for example, p-selectins expressed on the endothelium sticks to sugars on white blood cell membranes and get snagged there. Then, integrins on white blood cells actually cause the WBC to stop, so it can engage in diapedesis (move across the vessel wall). In the wrong conditions, with too much inflammation, this leads to plaque formation in the vessel wall - atherosclerosis. It may also be important in perpetuating inflammation in autoimmune disease.
Next, nitric oxide (NO) starts to be produced. It is a free radical, second messenger, paracrine, vasodilative, neurotransmitter, and hormone. Signal molecule in the vasculature, neurons and immune system. It can act within the cell, moves through water and fat, and readily diffuses. It's synthesized from arginine (sister amino acid to lysine - they are in counterbalance to each other) using nitric-oxide-synthases. Interestingly, arginine levels are high in veg protein (peanuts, e.g.) and lysine high in animal protein.
The enzyme nitric-oxide-synthase is the key intervention point. It needs cofactors: NADPH, FAD, FMN (all based on B-vits) all linked by a calmodulin binding site [note from Guido: calmodulin found in, and stimulated by, milky oats]. Eventually, NO activates smooth muscle cAMP which relaxes the muscle.
Another important NO stimulating factor (through eNOS activation) is shear stress on the endothelium: often caused by high blood pressure.
NO not only leads to vasorelaxation, but also decreases platelet aggregation.
iNOS, which is created on an as-needed basis, often comes from macrophages when they are activated. So extra NO is produced when needed by immune cells! This vasodilates, sure, but NO is also a free radical that the immune players "shoot out" to damage invaders. Unfortunately, though, it can also damage us. Interferon is often the cytokine that gets iNOS going by activating iNOS gene expression.
nNOS (neuronal-nitric-oxide-synthase) is stimulated through a glutamate-sensitive NMDA receptor. The nitric oxide produced as a result enhances memory and learning. It's crucial for this purpose.
When NO is broken down, it produces superoxide ions, nitrates, and perhaps also peroxinitrites (ONOO-) which has been implicated as a cause of chronic fatigue syndrome (cf. Pall). It's extremely toxic, and will uncouple oxydative phosphorylation in the mitochondria - you can't make ATP anymore! If we remember that, because inflammation can come from infection, inflammation, or emotion, NO can come from a variety of causes, chronically elevated levels can lead to profound fatigue.
"We should be looking at the common molecular basis for disease, rather that all these different disease labels. This is part of the future of medicine".
THE HERBS:
Angelica sinensis: inhibits adhesion molecules, reduces iNOS
Curcuma spp.: modulates adhesion molecules, reduces iNOS. Very pleiotropic. A variety of constituents with multiple countervalent effects - depending on cell type and physiological context.
Echinacea purpurea: countervalent effects on cytokines (TNF), interleukins, selectins and iNOS. It has a lot to do with the dose and research model (in vitro) presenting different conditions. Also, extraction has a huge role to play: European products, for instance, often have low alkylamide content.
Ginkgo biloba: inhibits adhesion molecules, reduces iNOS.
Spelman - 2008: Modulation of Cytokine Expression by Traditional Medicines
Immunomodulators: botanical medicines that through the dynamical regulation of informational molecules alter the activity of the immune systems.
Cytokines and the cytokine theory of disease (Czura, CJ 2005): overproduction of cytokines can cause the clinical manifestations of disease. But it can begin on an emotional level (anger/shame as opposed to medidative states) - then as cytokines levels increase, disease manifests: first depression, pain, anorexia. Then, psoriasis, colitis. Then, tissue damage and arthritis. Finally, shock and organ failure.
Tumor necrosis factor (TNF) and other cytokines like Epidermal Growth Factor stimulate a series of intracellular changes that ultimately have effects in the nucleus - on genetic expression. When, in researching botanicals, we look at the nucleus, we're getting somewhere.
Paul Ridker MD 2002: "It may be possible that having a high cytokine response in our evolutionary past served us well, when our lifespan was 35-40 years. Insulin resistance might have been useful (to prevent starvation). Not so anymore."
The effect of cytokines depends on the cell secreting it (lymphocytes, monocytes, etc) and the physiological context in which they are secreted. They are "immune hormones". Subtypes:
-interleukins, which have profound effects on inflammation, immunity, central nervous systems, hormone secretions (esp. ACTH, corticoids), they drive antibody response.
-interferons, which are the first line of defense against viruses. They are also cytotoxic, disrupt sleep and HPA axis, stimulate fever-like response.
-colony stimulation factors, which affect cell motility and proliferation, wound healing, inflammation, and hematopoiesis
-chemokines, which stimulate chemotaxis, immune function, inflammation.
Cytokines are versatile. They have different roles, redundancy, synergy and antagonism, and can be autocrine, paracrine, or systemic in their actions. Cytokine receptors are membrane bound, though some are freely floating and act as an activating complex. They are secreted and produced for short periods of time, with little storage and tight regulation of production, and super-short half-lives - "like fireflies".
Normal physiologic functions that induce cytokine production are sleep (to repair/renew) and ovulation. Production in healthy tissue is minimal. Microbial infection, other cytokines, stress, corticoids, histamine all stimulate cytokines as well. "This is why hayfever can actually make you feel really sick".
We are attempting to exploit cytokines pharmacologically. Stimulate, inhibit, block, activate. Herbal medicines have been doing this for a long time. For example, now we use interferon for hepatitis, melanoma, lymphoma. TNF-alpha inhibitors are used for rheumatoid arthritis. Interleukins and interleukin inhibitors are used for asthma modulation, to reduce the risk of Alzheimers.
What about further, bigger thinking on cytokine use? They're implicated in all chronic, age-related, inflammatory diseases. They travel broadly throughout the body. They may also have huge behavioral effects (if we buy in to the psycho-neuro-immunology - PNI - model). Why do we get grumpy when we have the flu? Cytokines. But the behavior also isolates us, separating us from the herd, to protect our peers from infection.
Liver, heart, vessel walls, and adipose tissue all produce cytokines, and may contribute to the etiology of cardiovascular disease. The liver is dear to herbalists - for so many good reasons.
Diseases such as anorexia, schizophrenia, depression, Alzheimer's all show high plasma levels of cytokines. These can be directly measured (though the tests are expensive right now). What we still need clarity on is defining the normal range (which right now is super-wide). Maybe we can get there through genetic medicine, by refining the "normal" depending on genome. Herbalists, however, have always had a good differentiating tool: the constitution. Perhaps pitta people, for instance, exhibit higher "normal" ranges of cytokines.
Adhesion molecules (cellular adhesion molecules - CAMs) are immunoglobulin superfamily CAMs (IgSF - CD-x cell surface receptors), integrins, cadherins, selectins. They are involved in embryonic development, neuro development, tissue adhesion, and expressed by leukocytes, platelets, epithelial and endothelial cells. They maintain tissue integrity, and recruit cells to tissues. They have a critical role to play in pathology, cancer. There are higher levels in those at risk for heart attacks. They may also be involved in behavior - though the research is preliminary (Walzog, B 2000).
The conformation of adhesion molecules - extended versus bent - has an important role to play in the ability of adhesion molecules to function.
Adhesion molecules are important in inflammation - for example, p-selectins expressed on the endothelium sticks to sugars on white blood cell membranes and get snagged there. Then, integrins on white blood cells actually cause the WBC to stop, so it can engage in diapedesis (move across the vessel wall). In the wrong conditions, with too much inflammation, this leads to plaque formation in the vessel wall - atherosclerosis. It may also be important in perpetuating inflammation in autoimmune disease.
Next, nitric oxide (NO) starts to be produced. It is a free radical, second messenger, paracrine, vasodilative, neurotransmitter, and hormone. Signal molecule in the vasculature, neurons and immune system. It can act within the cell, moves through water and fat, and readily diffuses. It's synthesized from arginine (sister amino acid to lysine - they are in counterbalance to each other) using nitric-oxide-synthases. Interestingly, arginine levels are high in veg protein (peanuts, e.g.) and lysine high in animal protein.
The enzyme nitric-oxide-synthase is the key intervention point. It needs cofactors: NADPH, FAD, FMN (all based on B-vits) all linked by a calmodulin binding site [note from Guido: calmodulin found in, and stimulated by, milky oats]. Eventually, NO activates smooth muscle cAMP which relaxes the muscle.
Another important NO stimulating factor (through eNOS activation) is shear stress on the endothelium: often caused by high blood pressure.
NO not only leads to vasorelaxation, but also decreases platelet aggregation.
iNOS, which is created on an as-needed basis, often comes from macrophages when they are activated. So extra NO is produced when needed by immune cells! This vasodilates, sure, but NO is also a free radical that the immune players "shoot out" to damage invaders. Unfortunately, though, it can also damage us. Interferon is often the cytokine that gets iNOS going by activating iNOS gene expression.
nNOS (neuronal-nitric-oxide-synthase) is stimulated through a glutamate-sensitive NMDA receptor. The nitric oxide produced as a result enhances memory and learning. It's crucial for this purpose.
When NO is broken down, it produces superoxide ions, nitrates, and perhaps also peroxinitrites (ONOO-) which has been implicated as a cause of chronic fatigue syndrome (cf. Pall). It's extremely toxic, and will uncouple oxydative phosphorylation in the mitochondria - you can't make ATP anymore! If we remember that, because inflammation can come from infection, inflammation, or emotion, NO can come from a variety of causes, chronically elevated levels can lead to profound fatigue.
"We should be looking at the common molecular basis for disease, rather that all these different disease labels. This is part of the future of medicine".
THE HERBS:
Angelica sinensis: inhibits adhesion molecules, reduces iNOS
Curcuma spp.: modulates adhesion molecules, reduces iNOS. Very pleiotropic. A variety of constituents with multiple countervalent effects - depending on cell type and physiological context.
Echinacea purpurea: countervalent effects on cytokines (TNF), interleukins, selectins and iNOS. It has a lot to do with the dose and research model (in vitro) presenting different conditions. Also, extraction has a huge role to play: European products, for instance, often have low alkylamide content.
Ginkgo biloba: inhibits adhesion molecules, reduces iNOS.
Spelman - 2008: Modulation of Cytokine Expression by Traditional Medicines
Lisa Ganora - synergy in botanical medicines
From the AHG Symposium
The scientific research process makes it difficult to research more than a small handful of chemicals at a time. Considering that, by some estimates, botanicals contain up to 10,000 active constituents, scientific research runs up against a limit very quickly. Fortunately, we have a practical use history to turn to: we've been eating these plants for a long time with no harm.
Polymolecular approaches, which rely on synergy, have a unique ability to interface with the complex biological system of the human being. Plants provide this. Huge difference compared to pharmaceutical agents. Additionally, pharmaceuticals are very new on the scene. And most aren't cheap (whereas plants...)
Vitalism: boiled down by Paul Bergner, "Nature is Smarter". Case in point: digoxin in foxglove. When consumed alongside other foxglove chemicals, overdoses cause nausea and vomiting. When digoxin is purified, it loses that "warning sign". Molecules are like people: we behave differently in different situations. You're not going to behave in the same way at church with grandma as you do at the corner bar. Another example: "when embedded in a phytochemical matrix with companion molecules, ascorbic acid can behave differently ... this is antioxidant synergy". Ascorbic acid + Iron, on the other hand, is a strong oxidative agent.
Plants are chemistry's dynamic matrix. Dynamic is key. Always changing, always adapting, always efficient! This variability can seem to be a source of difficulty, of confusion. But herbalists can get a handle on the overall balance of botanical chemistry through organoleptic (sense-based) assays. [Guido's note: I really feel that human intuition is an expression of an interaction between complex living systems. That is to say, when we intuit that a plant is ready to harvest and will be useful, we are drawing on the sum total of our organoleptic assay, environmental awareness, memory, and need and coming up with a synthesis that determines usefulness. Our physiology (brain included) is a great pattern-recognition system that can be drawn upon to do complex, "fuzzy" calculations in near-real time... but only if we let the rational side go].
Co-evolutionary theory underlies the development of complex phytochemical matrices - and extends to humans as well. As people develop relationships with plants, we select for each other.
Types of synergy: potentiating (enhanced activity), stabilization (protect certain constituents), modification (attenuation of toxicity). Side note - "just because there's a known toxic constituent in a plant doesn't mean that plant will be toxic. I ate comfrey as a vegetable when I was pregnant. Modification synergy at work".
St. Johnswort is a great example of a plant that only works through potentiating synergy. Isolation of an active ingredient has consistently failed. Hyperforin, hypericin, xanthones, hyperoside, melationin and more all work together [Guido's note: Ginseng is another great example. We still can't point out an active constituent].
Clinical note: consider mixing your concentrated extract (St. Johnswort, Ginkgo, Milk Thistle, Turmeric, etc...) with a little powdered whole herb, tea, tincture or other crude prep. Take advatage of synergy.
Potentiating synergy types: affecting stability / reactivity of different constituents; increasing bioavailability; chemicals can be co-ligands of a receptor; one compound might inhibit enzymatic breakdown of another chemical.
An example of stabilizing synergy is the process of "redox cycling": botanical antioxidants re-activate one another and prevent pro-oxidant activity. Way more effective than eating isolated, single antioxidants (vitamin c, or quercetin, e.g.). There are well over 60 types of citrus bioflavonoids in a fruit, along with carotenoids or vitamin c.
This might underlie an interesting observation about carotenoids: 20mg/day trans-beta-carotene over 5-8 years to 29K smokers / drinkers actually led to 18% more lung cancer. When taken with Vit. E, no change in lung cancer rates. If they simply ate a high-carotenoid diet, there was less lung cancer (NEJM 1994; 330:1029-35).
Dandelion flowers are a great example of phytochemical synergy. They contain a cocktail of carotenes (beta and other). Also xanthophylls (lutein, cryptoxanthin). Flavonoids (luteolin, quercetin and their glycosides). Phenylpropanoids - simple plant acids such as caffeic and chlorogenic acids. Triterpenes such as taraxasterol. Bitter sesquiterpene lactones. Some are oily, some watery. Taken together, they are anti-cancer, antioxidant, anti-inflammatory, and neuroprotective - but only when eaten as WHOLE dandelion flowers.
Black pepper (and its alkaloid piperine) is another example of synergy, but one where synergy relies on affecting endogenous (inside us) processes and thereby potentiating the activity of other phytochemicals. Piperine increases absorption and delays breakdown of many oil-based plant constituents. This has long been known in Ayurveda, where Trikatu is added to lots of formulas.
Oregon grape root is a great story of synergy. Its root contains lots of berberine, which is antibacterial and strongly inhibits Staph aureus. However, Staph uses a multi-drug-resistance pump (P-glycoprotein) that ejects the berberine to try to counteract its toxicity. But in the leaf of Oregon grape has 5'-MHC-D and pheophorbide-A which inhibit the multi-drug-resistance pump. Moral of the story: great synergy, but take a whole-plant preparation! (Stermitz, 1999)
Attenuation of toxicity is often seen in traditional polyherbal preparations. For example, Licorice markedly buffers the toxicity of prepared Aconite (monkshood) root.
Polymolecular approaches, which rely on synergy, have a unique ability to interface with the complex biological system of the human being. Plants provide this. Huge difference compared to pharmaceutical agents. Additionally, pharmaceuticals are very new on the scene. And most aren't cheap (whereas plants...)
Vitalism: boiled down by Paul Bergner, "Nature is Smarter". Case in point: digoxin in foxglove. When consumed alongside other foxglove chemicals, overdoses cause nausea and vomiting. When digoxin is purified, it loses that "warning sign". Molecules are like people: we behave differently in different situations. You're not going to behave in the same way at church with grandma as you do at the corner bar. Another example: "when embedded in a phytochemical matrix with companion molecules, ascorbic acid can behave differently ... this is antioxidant synergy". Ascorbic acid + Iron, on the other hand, is a strong oxidative agent.
Plants are chemistry's dynamic matrix. Dynamic is key. Always changing, always adapting, always efficient! This variability can seem to be a source of difficulty, of confusion. But herbalists can get a handle on the overall balance of botanical chemistry through organoleptic (sense-based) assays. [Guido's note: I really feel that human intuition is an expression of an interaction between complex living systems. That is to say, when we intuit that a plant is ready to harvest and will be useful, we are drawing on the sum total of our organoleptic assay, environmental awareness, memory, and need and coming up with a synthesis that determines usefulness. Our physiology (brain included) is a great pattern-recognition system that can be drawn upon to do complex, "fuzzy" calculations in near-real time... but only if we let the rational side go].
Co-evolutionary theory underlies the development of complex phytochemical matrices - and extends to humans as well. As people develop relationships with plants, we select for each other.
Types of synergy: potentiating (enhanced activity), stabilization (protect certain constituents), modification (attenuation of toxicity). Side note - "just because there's a known toxic constituent in a plant doesn't mean that plant will be toxic. I ate comfrey as a vegetable when I was pregnant. Modification synergy at work".
St. Johnswort is a great example of a plant that only works through potentiating synergy. Isolation of an active ingredient has consistently failed. Hyperforin, hypericin, xanthones, hyperoside, melationin and more all work together [Guido's note: Ginseng is another great example. We still can't point out an active constituent].
Clinical note: consider mixing your concentrated extract (St. Johnswort, Ginkgo, Milk Thistle, Turmeric, etc...) with a little powdered whole herb, tea, tincture or other crude prep. Take advatage of synergy.
Potentiating synergy types: affecting stability / reactivity of different constituents; increasing bioavailability; chemicals can be co-ligands of a receptor; one compound might inhibit enzymatic breakdown of another chemical.
An example of stabilizing synergy is the process of "redox cycling": botanical antioxidants re-activate one another and prevent pro-oxidant activity. Way more effective than eating isolated, single antioxidants (vitamin c, or quercetin, e.g.). There are well over 60 types of citrus bioflavonoids in a fruit, along with carotenoids or vitamin c.
This might underlie an interesting observation about carotenoids: 20mg/day trans-beta-carotene over 5-8 years to 29K smokers / drinkers actually led to 18% more lung cancer. When taken with Vit. E, no change in lung cancer rates. If they simply ate a high-carotenoid diet, there was less lung cancer (NEJM 1994; 330:1029-35).
Dandelion flowers are a great example of phytochemical synergy. They contain a cocktail of carotenes (beta and other). Also xanthophylls (lutein, cryptoxanthin). Flavonoids (luteolin, quercetin and their glycosides). Phenylpropanoids - simple plant acids such as caffeic and chlorogenic acids. Triterpenes such as taraxasterol. Bitter sesquiterpene lactones. Some are oily, some watery. Taken together, they are anti-cancer, antioxidant, anti-inflammatory, and neuroprotective - but only when eaten as WHOLE dandelion flowers.
Black pepper (and its alkaloid piperine) is another example of synergy, but one where synergy relies on affecting endogenous (inside us) processes and thereby potentiating the activity of other phytochemicals. Piperine increases absorption and delays breakdown of many oil-based plant constituents. This has long been known in Ayurveda, where Trikatu is added to lots of formulas.
Oregon grape root is a great story of synergy. Its root contains lots of berberine, which is antibacterial and strongly inhibits Staph aureus. However, Staph uses a multi-drug-resistance pump (P-glycoprotein) that ejects the berberine to try to counteract its toxicity. But in the leaf of Oregon grape has 5'-MHC-D and pheophorbide-A which inhibit the multi-drug-resistance pump. Moral of the story: great synergy, but take a whole-plant preparation! (Stermitz, 1999)
Attenuation of toxicity is often seen in traditional polyherbal preparations. For example, Licorice markedly buffers the toxicity of prepared Aconite (monkshood) root.
8.17.2012
The need for long-term thinking in medicine: Cinnamon as a case study
In fact,
there is a growing realization in many professions and disciplines that we need
to approach the world with much more long-term thinking. Perhaps pumping out wetlands
and building cities isn’t the best idea. It might be smart to consider sources
of energy that aren’t going to run out fairly soon. When educating, connection
to long-term curiosity might be better than passing the next test. Social and ecological concerns in market-based economies might trump the need to make a
buck.
I dare say
that medicine is beginning to embrace this trend, too – or at least people are.
People who are interested in real food that may not require contaminating the
water supply to cultivate, and who feel like this food might be better for
their long-term health (though missing the tasty nacho cheese). People who
consider a fever the sign of a healthy reactive response, and watch it for a
bit rather than immediately suppresing it. People who are beginning to think
that diabetes may be connected as much to ubiquitous, unregulated sugar in the
food supply as it is to increased weight, lack of exercise, or “poor
self-control”.
Which brings
me to cinnamon. A recent meta-review found a small but significant effect from
the powdered bark of this fragrant member of the Laurel family in treating the
elevated blood sugar levels associated with Type 2 diabetes. I recommend this
plant to clients concerned about this disease, either as part of breakfast or –
my favorite – mixed with stevia, almond butter and cacao and rolled into “bliss
balls”. It is best to take it regularly, as part of a long-term habit that
includes real, bitter food and lots of movement. In this context it’s
delicious, easy to take (doses are in the teaspoon range), and effective.
The effect
is, indeed, small when observed in isolation and for short periods of time. But
diabetes (at epidemic levels) isn’t a problem that develops overnight, folks. I
doubt anyone in the food industry, somewhere between the middle of the 19th
century and the middle of the 20th, was saying “whoa - wait a sec,
guys. I think that all this tasty sweet stuff (and elimination of all botanical
biodiversity in the diet) might actually lead to epidemic levels of a
sugar-metabolism disease in the next century!” No, that would have required
seriously long-term thinking in matters of public health. And a little more
knowledge of the human body.
Well, today
we have a little more of both. But
research still looks at botanicals for three to four months most of the time –
and this is partly because research is still beginning. When more time and
interest are devoted to certain plants, such as the 2012 analysis that showed
soy food consumption leads to lower recurrence of estrogen-positive breast
cancer, striking results are revealed. But even this research only followed ten
thousand women for seven years. Would that we had multi-generational followup
data for cinnamon, endive, and dandelion roots! We might see a reversal of the
grand experiment in carbohydrate refinement that gave us the current diabetes
epidemic.
Short-term
thinking gives us a need for dramatic, immediate results that might fit within
the constraints of our current research model. This is great for many acute and
chronic diseases, but not as great for matters of public health or for analyzing cultural patterns that lead to the diseases themselves. Often, we learn about these matters from
retrospective studies – discovering a problem after it’s already
well-established. Long-term thinking takes a break and asks “if left alone,
what might this situation look like?” Long-term thinking wonders how the river
might handle a hundred-year flood if we hadn’t intervened to alter its course,
how a population’s blood sugar might look if we hadn’t altered its food supply.
Type 2
diabetes is a long-term effect of short-term thinking (satisfy my hunger now,
and in a way that can be easily produced, stored, transported and packaged!)
Its solution has to be based in long-term thinking, and part of that might very
well include herbs such as cinnamon. The reason they are important is that,
unlike a pharmaceutical solution, they provide an inroad to self-care based on
whole plants and food – elements of life which, along with movement, end up
being the keys to successful prevention of diabetes. If your mother started
making cinnamon bliss balls when you were little, you might grow up eating them
and eventually making them for your friends and family. Who knows what other
bizarre plants you might consume
along the way. Lo and behold, two generations later population levels of
diabetes, obesity and heart disease are lower. I’d give you a rose to
celebrate, but we all know there’s no research showing roses are effective as
mood-lifters.
Some argue
that, since the effect of a botanical such as cinnamon is small compared to
conventional drugs, it should be rejected as part of our approach to diabetes.
Ironically, the argument is that using cinnamon perpetuates a pill-driven, not
lifestyle-driven, mentality for handling the disease. Call me crazy, but I’d
respectfully argue that it’s probably pharmaceuticals that are driving this
mentality, and that the search for a cinnamon capsule as an “alternative” is a
first baby-step towards a different way. In the hands of an herbalist, baby
steps turn into hikes in the forest. That could be a good thing – and a complex,
multi-layered approach to diabetes that includes cinnamon most certainly is.
Say what you
will about an over-reliance on short-term clinical trials to drive therapy (or just read the British Medical Journal). Aside from the caveats (some of which I
mention above), the approach is often a good one. But the offhand rejection of
botanicals such as cinnamon, especially when they show promise, is actually
harmful to public health. It is also a product of very short-term thinking.
This is a problem that we need to resolve if we want to advance the cause of
medicine and improve global quality of life – and herbalists, as those who,
across the world, know what local plants do, are well placed to be part of the
solution. Herbalists know the plants, but they also know that moving your
vegetables over a little and supporting the community of cattail and calamus by
the riverbank might be a better choice than a retaining wall, though it
requires a (small) sacrifice in the short-term. Herbalists know that a bouquet
of flowers makes you happy even though there’s not a single study out there
to prove it. And they are usually inspiring teachers, too – the perfect choice
for a diabetic patient.
All this
requires a change in thinking about medicine. We need to be looking further
over the horizon, at a future where the advancement of our species sometimes
includes a return to older technologies – not because they’re old, but because
they’re damn smart in a long-term context. A future where we observe and mimic nature in designing our
systems not because it’s “natural” but because, in the end, it’s in our own
self-interest (global warming? Hundred year flood?). Herbal medicine fits in
perfectly here. It is the precise modality that offers cultural connection,
self-empowerment, ecological awareness, and effective remedies! It is both a
blueprint for the future and a safety net for the present. As a design element
for the next century of medicine, it can bring long-term thinking into a branch
of science struggling with its own pressing challenges, helping it to harness
the tools of complexity and deep ecology that are driving other industries.
Long-term, complex herbal therapy won’t look as flashy in the short term – but that
does not mean it has no value. Give it time, and skilled hands – a garden takes
a season to come to fruit.
8.06.2012
Urban Moonshine's herbal conference report
The recent week of warmth and
humidity has taken a turn towards cooler weather today, and the south winds are
freshening up and blowing in across the lake from the northwest now. But the
full height of Summer’s glory was on display this Saturday, when over one hundred
people from across Vermont and beyond attended Urban Moonshine’s first annual
herb conference and the evening festivities that followed. I had an amazing
time.
Rosemary Gladstar, our friend and
ongoing source of inspiration, kicked off the event by describing the success
herbal medicine has enjoyed – in our communities and on the national stage –
but also by exhorting us to keep up the momentum and find new, creative ways to
bring the plants into the lives (and kitchens) of those who need them most. Then
we broke into class sessions held in yurts, out in green fields with sweeping
views, or on the trail in the forest. Larken shared thoughts on differentiating
and applying the nervine herbs; Betzy toured a huge group around the gardens
and fields; Jeff shared his knowledge of medicinal herb cultivation; Melanie set
loose the herb spirits by crafting flower essences on a truly perfect, sunny
day; Mary gave a case-based overview of some herbal strategies for kids; Layla
was the diva of essential oils; and Brendan taught how to fit Western herbs
into the energetic and spiritual framework defined by classical Taoist Chinese
medicine.
Throughout the day, Jovial and the
Urban Moonshine crew took complete care of every detail, making sure there was
plenty of water, energy tonic, and, of course, herbal bitters. They coordinated
classes, showed folks to the pond for a refreshing afternoon swim, and prepared
our dinner (along with Woodbelly Pizza, who trucked in their wood-fired oven
and baked pies non-stop). And after browsing the herbal products marketplace,
Colleen and Peter planted themselves behind the bar and served a range of home-created cocktails to the assembly of
herbalists: drinks such as the “Dreamer”, featuring crushed mugwort leaves, as
well as more classic mixes (a great negroni, for instance). A fiery-orange moon
came up over the Eastern ridge and the music got turned up.
As is so often the case for me at these
types of gatherings, I loved my side-conversations with folks in the in-between
times. I especially enjoyed talking with Brendan and his wife Liz, who are acupuncturists
practicing at Jade Mountain Wellness and study medicine and philosophy in an
ancient Taoist lineage. We mostly discussed how “wood” (as in the phase of
change associated with spring) dominates our culture: we are immature,
impulsive, infatuated with our newest technological marvels (fortunately, I had
just finished swimming so my smartphone was far, far away). While there is
nothing wrong with the pursuit of new things, we tend to discard our older ways
much too quickly – and, of course, medicine is a great example of this pattern.
Nothing wrong with antibiotics, I love the stuff when it’s needed: but do we
really have to use them for every little infection? Probably not. You could
make the same case for steroids, narcotics, anti-inflammatories – you name it.
Brendan’s point was that, in being so “wood”-centered, we are overtaxing “metal”,
which is charged with keeping the sprouting wood under control. Metal connects
to ancestor wisdom. It connects to wild, animal nature. It connects to bonfires
and howling to the moon. Too focused on wood we are, and metal suffers. If we
fed our wild side a bit more, if we could learn to retain a measure of
ancestor-wisdom, we might not be turning to our internet devices every thirty
seconds. Just sayin’.
Of course, that is precisely what
this gathering of fine herb-folk is promoting. And while the conference and
party were a success, I am also extremely grateful to Urban Moonshine who
is donating all the profits to our community clinic, where we work with folks
who often have no money and provide them with long-term access to experienced
practitioners, along with teas, powders and tinctures as needed, for as long as
is needed. You can learn more about this work at the Vermont Center for Integrative Herbalism.
I taught a little class on herbal
extraction and the distillation of herbal spirits. It was fun. Here’s the handout if you are interested.
8.01.2012
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."
7.02.2012
The Natural Products Industry that Isn’t.
A few evenings ago I was sitting on a rough cedar deck, watching sunlight orange across
the tops of the poplar and maple canopy,
and thinking how nice it was to be visiting my friend’s house in the forest:
the nestled feeling, the total privacy, the familiar smells. He confessed that, sometimes, he too liked to imagine his
house from the perspective of a guest, walking through his gardens, up the
wooden steps, and into the kitchen with the eye of an outsider, taking the time
to appreciate it without the preconceptions and perceptual habits that develop
after living in a place for an extended period of time. Perhaps it was the
effects of the mixture of Schisandra kombucha, gin, and tonic water we were
drinking, but this short exercise in mindfulness seemed to me as both a useful
habit to practice and also a profoundly important skill for the modern human.
We are so entrenched in our politics, our communities, our niches and
worldviews that, without occasionally looking at life from outside the fences,
we might run the risk of missing out on an important and useful perspective.
I have
also been thinking a lot about the Food and Drug Administration recently. Don’t
get me wrong – there are serious issues around funding, connections to the food
and pharma lobbies, and separation from nature that continue to concern me
about this regulatory body’s work. But I have been trying to walk these
familiar corridors (herbalists versus the FDA) with an outsider’s eye. In the
last year, there have been more and more inspections of natural product
manufacturing facilities. The government is trying to identify “new” dietary
ingredients and regulate their use. There is both clamor and confusion rising
up from those who make and sell products that are used under the umbrella of
“complementary and alternative medicine”.
What is going on here, and why? What might we learn by observing the
situation?
Since 1994, when the US Congress passed the Dietary
Supplements Health and Education Act (DSHEA), we have seen many, many new
“dietary supplements” on the shelves of our food stores and pharmacies. Many of
these products have come on to the market because DSHEA allows a fuzzy “gray
zone” between food and medicine: while recognizing that supplements are more
than vegetables, it doesn’t require that they be tested for safety and efficacy
the way prescription and over-the-counter drugs are. This has allowed a
profitable industry to grow in the United States, where annual sales of
products labeled as “natural” and falling under the legal aegis of DSHEA top $28
billion, according to the Nutrition Business Journal. (http://newhope360.com/2010-supplement-business-report-0)
Out of
these annual sales, herbal products account for about five billion annual
dollars, or just under 18% of the total. Within this five billion, it is hard
to assess what percentage of products are made from refined, concentrated
botanical constituents (such as curcuminoids, or silymarin) versus crude
whole-plant encapsulations, tea blends, and tinctures – but suffice it to say, the
bulk of that five billion annual dollars is not finding its way into the
pockets of small-scale, heart-centered local herbalists! So, in sum, at least
82% and probably over 90% of what makes up the “natural products” industry
isn’t “natural” at all: it is either a cocktail of vitamins and minerals, a
sports nutrition or meal replacement product built up from processed
constituents, or some other mixture of naturally-derived, refined, or outright
synthetic ingredients. We may have encountered pieces of these products in
nature at some point, but never at these doses. In certain cases, they are
completely new to our physiologies.
Take
the case of grapefruit seed extract. The FDA has been warning manufacturers of
this “natural” antiseptic and antibiotic agent that their products may contain
triclosan (an antiseptic linked with bacterial resistance and toxicity); the
American Botanical Council suspects that these extracts are adulterated
purposefully to increase their antibiotic power (http://cms.herbalgram.org/herbalgram/issue94/QUALCONTROL_gfse.html).
Others feel that the extensive processing that the original grapefruit seed slurry
undergoes actually generates triclosan-like compounds (http://herbsandinfluenza.com/blog/2006/12/22/grapeseed-extract-explained/).
Regardless, you either have an adulterated product (falsely labeled!), or a
product that has undergone extensive chemical alteration, resembling grapefruit
seeds less than high fructose corn syrup resembles an ear of corn. This isn’t a
natural product at all.
So
whether it be an antibiotic derived from chemical manipulation, a mega-dose
vitamin, a solvent-extracted slurry of connective tissue from a shark, or a
digestive enzyme obtained from a genetically-modified Aspergillus fungus, I fear that our “natural” products bear little
resemblance to those found on the shelves of natural food stores in the
1980s. Even more disturbingly, most of
what’s out there (with a few rare exceptions, like folic acid) shows very little
evidence of helping for any problem whatsoever. Where do we see a consistent
body of research and a rich depth of traditional use? It’s in herbal medicine –
less than 1/5 of what’s on the shelves. Most of these other “natural” products
are marketed on the basis of petri dish experiments, fruit fly studies from
fifty years ago, anecdotal testimonials, or in some cases, just snazzy
packaging. Some of them contain toxic, drug-like ingredients. It is no wonder
the FDA is trying to get a handle on this situation (as it already has with the
amphetamine-like additive DMAA http://www.fda.gov/NewsEvents/Newsroom/PressAnnouncements/ucm302133.htm).
It is also no wonder that we are starting to see more and more reports of
vitamins, minerals, and other supplements potentially doing us more harm than
good: they are at best weak drugs, and at worst untested, potentially unsafe,
chemical additives.
What
put this over the top for me was a discussion I had when I recently visited
Bastyr University, the premier training ground for naturopathic physicians in
the United States. Out of the 299 credits required for graduation, there are
five credits devoted specifically to botanical medicine. Over seventeen are
assigned to physical medicine (somatic therapies involving touch, manipulation,
etc), and over eight for homeopathy (http://www.bastyr.edu/academics/areas-study/study-naturopathic-medicine/naturopathic-doctor-degree-program#Curriculum).
Where are the herbal materia medica classes? Where are the topics on complexity
in medicine, the study of interactions between multilayered living botanicals
and multilayered living humans? These are the roots of naturopathic medicine,
but they seem to be nourishing less and less of the Bastyr curriculum these
days. So can we really be surprised that some practitioners recommend abstracted,
drug-like “natural” products to their patients instead of teaching them to brew
tea and walk in the forest?
Natural
products aren’t real, folks – but fortunately,
herbal medicine is. Herbal medicine is traditional medicine – for over
80% of the world, but for us in the “developed” world, too. Along with ancient
somatic and energetic therapies like massage and acupuncture, all tied together
by a rich and meaningful mythology, herbal medicine makes up this tradition.
Modern alternatives – be they the mainstream technological medicine, or “CAM”
technological medicine – are just that: a different choice, some of which is well
validated for use in health care, some of which lacks any validation
whatsoever. But neither prescription drugs, over-the-counter pills, or that 80%
of “natural” dietary supplements can come close to providing the breadth,
depth, and accessibility of true traditional medicine.
It is
time for herbalists to affirm that our plants are not “complementary and
alternative” to technological medicine. Our medicine is real, and just as real
vegetables are not a complement to frozen dinners and meal replacement shakes,
true botanical medicine is not some kind of extra adjunct to pharmaceuticals
and surgical interventions. It is a birthright. It is a daily gift. Its memory
is visibly encoded in our genetic material. And it is being practiced
everywhere, in kitchens and apothecaries, in modern production facilities and
improvised forest clinics. We as herbalists – the growers, the clinicians, the
wildcrafters, the medicine-makers, the keepers of wortcunning, the storytellers
– have been sinking our roots back into the tradition over the last few
decades. Now, having moved well past the embryonic stage, and our cotyledons
fully unfurled, it is time to rise up and proclaim what makes us unique: we are
traditional medicine, we are integrated ecology, we are plants. Argue all you
want about what is “mainstream” and what is “alternative” – we as herbalists
are neither. We are tradition, we hold the roots. Now let’s stand up and let
others know the deal. As Rima Staines
simply put it (http://intothehermitage.blogspot.com/2012/01/rise-root.html):
rise and root. Think as a plant does: up, up! and down, down! One movement in
many directions, many directions with one focus.
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