It’s the first day of spring; the sun is climbing higher in the sky with each passing day and with that I’m wanting to give a shout-out to some plant allies that served me well in the clinic this past winter season.
And don’t get me wrong, I love the amniotic sleep of winter, and had the good grace of being able to spend a large portion of it out of the hustle of the city, where things can more fully sink into the ‘winteryness’ of winter– curling into themselves like seeds: waiting, cultivating, dreaming, and re-nourishing. But even in the most ideal of situations these winter months can be hard without summer’s flame circulating our energy and dazzling and distracting our senses with the flamboyancy of it’s armfulls of flowers and swollen fruits– everything flirting and buzzing in fat flowering elation. Winter is when the frills fall away and we’re left in the bone marrow of it all.
Most of us who dwell in the cool and damp north western reaches of Turtle Island (my context for all of this) are acquainted on some level with the winter blues– when the emotions, energies, and actual body fluids stagnate. We puddle, sink, and things slow down without the sun’s heat and energy chasing away our demons, burning through mucus build-ups, warming our creaking joints and casting light into our dusty, dark corners. And when we can’t count on the sun, plants make a fabulous substitute. They are, of course, premier feeders and transformers of light. The plants I generally use for these purposes are solar and sacral in nature– working to clear the respiratory system, and warm and stimulate the digestive and reproductive systems. They are often spicy, warm, dry, and sometimes resinous, and come in shades of yellow, gold and red– all such elements that send energy spiraling up and out, expanding, and stretching outwards– while also nourishing and warming our core as if we were a big earthen oven.
None fit this description more than Damiana, Turnera Aphrodesiascea– whose spicy, sticky, narcotic-smelling leaves and yellow flowers clear the respiratory system, stimulate the digestion and deeply warm and nourish the reproductive system. I generally like to make folks very personally tailored formulas, with a range of diverse herbs but this past winter Damiana found it’s way into at least three quarters of my formulas– I couldn’t seem to keep her out… Like most plants, Damiana pushes up against pigeon holing, which in her case has her pegged as a simple aphrodisiac. And don’t get me wrong Damiana is a wonderful aphrodisiac, which helps folks to come home to their bodies, reconnect with the base instincts and warm and open the pelvic area. Damiana can also help with chronic vaginal discharge and infertility.
However, this winter I used Damiana mainly for folks who were struggling with depression– not the deepest darkest depression, but the kind of soggy, blue depression that could likely perk up if the sun came out for a few days (or a few hours!) or for the kind of depression which is connected to a feeling of needing one’s fire stoked– or maybe a new flame all together. This kind of depression might be accompanied by exhaustion, low lobido, digestive weakness, coldness, a sore lower back and maybe loose stools. This is the type of depression that a lot of elder folks experience.
Western herbalists don’t tend to consider Damiana an adaptogen, but I’ve started to work with it on this level. Mothering and matriarchal, there is nothing wain or frail about Damiana, and she reaches the deep yang resource level, where she is a real nourishing and building force. Though it’s just the flowers and leaves we use, I feel like Damiana is reaching down to our roots and nourishing our places of power.
While you’d have to travel to the southern tips of Turtle Island to harvest Damiana in her natural environment, there is a tough little sun worshiping plant by the name of Grindelia that grows around coastal Vancouver Island, Grindelia which touches on some similar qualities. Found on dry, sunbaked blistering bluffs, this ragged but regal plant can be seen triumphantly blooming in the middle of February.
Grindelia is traditionally used for dry, sticky or thick phlegm of both the acute and dragging varieties, as well for Bronchitis. But don’t take too much; Grindelia is so high in oozey pine smelling resin that it is contraindicated in Kidney Disease and should only be take in smallish doses. Matthew Wood suggests 5 drops every 15-30 minutes during coughing paroxysms until spasm is relieved or 3 times a day when cough is less intense. Michael Moore suggests a tincture of the flowering tops taken as 15-40 drops up to 5 times a day. I tend to use no more than 15 drops, 3 times a day, and for winter depression I use between 3-5 drops, X3 a day.
I add a touch of Grindelia in accompaniment to Damiana in my winter blues formulas. These 2 solar companions hit different notes of a similar melody– where as Damiana is all base, Grindelia is more clearing to our head, our mind, and our lungs; and where Damiana is warming and comforting like a hearth fire, Grindelia can more aggressively cut through the clouds, thus enhancing the anti-depressive qualities of Damiana.
So much more to say and so many more plants to highlight here, but I should get outside.
Here are 2 of my favourite formulas of the past months for you to percolate on:
LET THERE BE LIGHT!
ST JOHN’S WORT 25%
GRINDELIA 5%
DAMIANA 40%
CARDAMUM 10%
CINNAMON 10%
ORANGE PEEL 10%
SUNFLOWER FLOWER ESSENCE
ANOTHER IDEA:
DAMIANA 65%
CARDAMUM 10%
CINNAMON 10%
ORANGE PEEL 5%
CHOCOLATE 10%