I first went to the Northern California Women's Herbal Symposium eight years ago, when I was pregnant with my daughter.
Returning this summer with Ellah, 7 ¾ years old, was a gift to us both. Over 200 women and children camped in the woods, about 250 miles north of San Francisco.
A circle of 13 tipis encircled a steady burning fire, to make the hearth and heart of the camp. Infants, toddlers, teenage girls (boys only welcome till age 10), mothers, grandmothers, and women of all ages, made for a beautiful impromptu tribe. Our tents pitched all over the grounds, we came together around the fire to eat, drum, dance, and visit.
Freedom and safety engulfed us like a blanket. Mamas tended a crying child who wasn't their own, young children roamed safely, and I was one of many Moms who eagerly participated in classes, knowing our children were engaged in age-appropriate activities and fully cared for. We were there for four days only, yet it felt like a whole lifetime, lived in a different era.
Healing With Herbs
The ancient art of herbalism used to be passed from mother to daughter in villages of old.
As if transported back in time, my daughter received a foundation in herbal education from wise women: she made a healing salve with lavender and calendula, sewed a dream pillow, which she filled with soothing herbs and decorated with colorful wool. The following day she shared a treat that she had made - a power-herbal-edible-ball, made of nut butters, herbs, sesame seeds, coconut and cacao - yummy!
All along I was busy training in wise ways myself. I learned how to give and receive 'Elysian' treatments by taping tiny seeds onto acupuncture points on the ear.
The gentle pressure stimulated the points and addressed various conditions for days afterwards. The essential oils workshop sent me into bliss as I smelled my way into the knowledge of how different scents affect the brain, and made "smelling salts" with fragrances of my choice.
Over the course of the symposium I didn't only learn of specific herbs and their uses, but was also inspired to go home and put to use what knowledge of herbs I already have, which I let slide through the years.
Caring For An 'Ouch'
The Wellness Center was a surprising highlight. I didn't plan on going there, but after Ellah fell down with an "ouch" we headed toward the big tent with its colorful sarong-walls blowing in the breeze.
A young woman was immediately available and gave my daughter her full attention. She spoke reassuringly while gently rubbing ointment on Ellah's foot, as if she had all the time in the world. Ellah felt instantly better given the undivided attention, not to mention the treatment itself.
Witnessing this reminded me I had an "ouch" of my own… After accompanying my daughter to her 'mid-kid' activity, I returned to the Wellness Center and was met with the same attentive care. An old injury in my knee bothered me since the previous night. The wise young woman softly rubbed Arnica on it, and spoke of Ocotillo, an herb that aids the release of stagnant energy from the lower limbs. She massaged a few drops of Ocotillo tincture on my knee, and I learned that tinctures could be used topically not only taken internally.
The best part was yet to come: by the following morning my knee was 60% better! I went back for more, and within a couple of days my knee was almost fully mended. In the Wellness Center I experienced ancient yet revolutionary ways of healing. This is the way medicine should be practiced!
The Moon Hut
Like villages of old, the Symposium provided a Moon Hut: a sanctuary for women who are on their 'Moon Time,' their menstrual flow. This large, womb-like Red Tent was an enticing place with its beautiful altar covered by sacred images of the feminine, plush red mattresses, and rose-shaped pillows scattered all around.
Peeking inside you were absolutely called to lounge… Women and girls lazed there at all hours: resting, reading, talking, giggling, sewing re-usable cloth menstrual pads, coloring, or just being.
The jewel in the crown was the profoundly touching ceremony, which celebrated the girls who started their menstrual cycle this year.
Our Western cultures deprive contemporary girls and boys of a momentous gift by not celebrating their coming of age in a meaningful way. Indigenous cultures around the world marked Rites Of Passage by welcoming their young into the company of adults.
In the absence of such honoring, our youth are left to invent their own mock rites: from gangs to anorexia, from fashion mania to bullying…
In stark contrast, the ceremony at the Herbal Symposium was a community act of embracing, in which girls said goodbye to their childhood, and entered the world of adult accountability as women, witnessed and welcomed by their whole tribe. Not having had such an experience myself, I want my daughter to grow up experiencing this, year after year, until her turn comes to be honored, and beyond: when she will be one of those welcoming a new generation of girls into womanhood.
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