what the nettles taught me (again and again)

last spring, i found a nettle plant in my backyard by the roadside that i diligently pruned for months until i had the largest, bushiest nettle of all time. over the course of the early spring, this nettle plant and i became good friends. we spent lots of time together and helped each other out, as friends do.

i regularly tended to it, helping it grow increasingly large. the nettles helped me mitigate springtime sneeziness, provided a rich source of essential minerals like magnesium, iron, and zinc, and gave me an opportunity to reconnect with the ecological community after a long, cold winter.

one heartbreaking day, when i went to go visit my friend the nettle plant, i found that it had been sprayed with herbicides — the once abundant, verdant leaves turned brown and brittle. it felt no different than losing a close friend.

anyways, fast forward to now — i spent most of last week feeling a bit like that crumbling nettle plant. before the cold hit, i was on a high. i was seeing so many clients, spending so much time outside, seeing friends, moving my body, etc. etc. etc. and then, boom. full stop. this cold had other plans for me.

those plans included headaches, a persistent phlegm-stuck-in-my-throat feeling, a scratchy throat, low energy, and trouble breathing through at least one but sometimes both nostrils. it took me down.

but maybe the most bothersome symptom of all was the persistent boredom that followed me throughout the week.

i had to cancel two massage appointments, plans i’d made with one friend to make brunch together, plans with another to watch the hunger games: catching fire over gossip and snacks, and my very first shift on a nearby farm where i’m doing a worktrade for a CSA membership.

one thing about me is that i hate sitting inside the house all day. in many ways, i’m kind of like a weimaraner — if i don’t get my daily outside time, i’m liable to start gnawing on the carpet. so spending a week hardly able to get up out of bed, follow through on all these plans i had made, or really do much of anything at all was pretty rough.

the source of solace that got me through, and reminded me that i’m never really alone, even when i’m stuck inside for a week? the daily ritual of crafting and consuming plant medicine.

i took the echinacea tincture i was gifted in asheville multiple times a day to give my immune system some backup in fighting off this bug. i turned to expectorant herbs like mullein and oregano to break up mucus and kick it out. i stirred spoonfuls of brooklyn honey from a friend into my morning, afternoon, and evening teas. i popped by a local herb shop (bluestem botanicals in doylestown) and picked up some marshmallow root for its throat-soothing mucilage (aka, slime). 

these herbs supported me throughout the week — shortening my sickness, relieving my symptoms, and making me feel a little less bad about the whole thing. even though being sick sucks (a lot), it reminded me of the ways that i need to balance rest and play, and how i rely on community – both plant and human – to care for myself, to care for others. 

nettles, too, were an important part of my healing. i ate slices of nettle olive oil cake, spread wild green pesto on slices of toast, boiled the leaves into a thick, dark, mineral-rich broth. the minerals in the nettles provided the building blocks my immune system needed to bounce back. nettles once again gave me what i needed: nourishment, grounding, and reassurance that life is cycling forward, even when i feel like i’m stuck.

and now that my cold has finally passed, they’re still helping me — not with sickness, but with the intense seasonal allergies that have decided i don’t get a break from sinus congestion any time soon.

as i mentioned last week, stinging nettles are an incredible antihistamine, and i’ve found they help take the edge off that constant congestion and itchy-eye fogginess that comes with spring. i’ve been drinking infusions all the time and adding them into just about every meal.

i’ve actually been waiting months for this spring to arrive — not just for the sunshine, not just for the nettles, but because i’m finally ready to start crafting something i’ve been dreaming up since last year: a nettle spagyric lotion, infused with all those minerals that helped me heal from my cold.

it’s the slowest of slow medicines, born out of a season of waiting. 

spagyrics are a type of ancient herbal alchemy — you break the plant down into its essential parts, purify them, and reunite them in a stronger, more potent form. it’s a way of honoring the full being of the plant.

this lotion will carry the cooling, soothing properties of nettle deep into tired muscles. the magnesium, extracted directly from the plant, will offer gentle support to muscles for rest, ease, and healing.

soon, i’ll be offering it as an add-on for massage sessions. i’ve been dreaming of it for months, and am excited to finally get to work on it as the nettles shoot up through the soil. 

so, while i’m not sick anymore, i am still healing — from the chill of winter, from disconnection, from forgetting what supports me until i remember again. the plants remind me. the rituals remind me. the people i love remind me.

thanks for reading. i hope you find some support this week, too — whether it’s a steaming mug of tea, a deep breath outside, or a plant you notice growing in the cracks of the sidewalk.

with care, 

— jude (they/them)