I have been in the past, and still am, if I am being honest (which I always try to be), a cynical person to varying degrees. I have referred to myself as an optimistic pessimist – things could get better, but they probably won’t.

But then here comes COVID and the asinine people who refuse to wear a mask because ‘MURICA, and all things Black Lives Matter and the repeated and unanswered request that rights extend to all of the people in the U.S., not just the white ones, and I can feel the pendulum silently swinging to the pessimistic side of things.

My anxiety has ramped up right along with COVID cases, hospitalizations, and deaths, just as media coverage of BLM protests has quietly dwindled. Since the protests have been largely peaceful, save the random snatching of protestors and well-meaning white folks hijacking the message, apparently, the call for equality is less interesting. We’d rather see Karen flinging mask displays in Target or carrying out random, odd, mask-related protests in Costco.

It’s unnerving and upsetting to see how childish and ridiculous the U.S. is.

And yet.

There remains some reassuring and incontrovertible evidence that A) the universe doesn’t really give a rat’s ass about us humans, but B) if we can get even just a little bit quiet and attend to the world around us, that same universe is actually lousy with the things we actually need.

Case in point: referring the to aforementioned anxiety, I have very specific symptoms that range from gastrointestinal malfunction (will leave it at that) to pulsating tinnitus, anger, depression, and fainting. During the pandemic, I have done my level best to practice yoga (daily in July, but that’s new) and walk outside every day. I recognized early on that as attractive as lying around binge-watching trashy television appears on said trashy television, the reality of it is a noxious stew of flab, perseverating, and self-flagellation that feeds the beast of anxiety.

So outside I go, hiking, foraging, WEARING A FUCKING MASK.

And here’s where the universe pops in. When I am experiencing some specific symptom of anxiety, for the last three months, the medicinal herb to address it has popped up in my path.

Headaches, cramps, fatigue, nausea, dizziness, shortness of breath: each time I have walked out into the world and felt one of these (COVID negative, don’t panic), I have within minutes of walking stumbled upon the natural treatment for that symptom.

This past week I was on a solo camping trip in western Maryland, and I had the great good fortune to go hiking on the Appalachian Trail. I was born in D.C., lived in Maryland for 25 years (plus these past five), and I have never once stepped on the AT.

And I almost didn’t again. I woke up on the day of the planned hike short of breath with ringing ears – two bellwethers of an impending anxiety attack. Rather than cancel the hike, I imagined the worst that could happen, made plans to address that in my head, and laced up my boots (this is my technique for dealing with anxiety. Ignoring it doesn’t work, and sometimes taking medication is not a good option).

I walked along the sunny path and headed towards the first incline, reminding myself that I could always stop and turn around, when I spotted it: prunella vulgaris. Self-heal.

I have been looking for this common medicinal plant for a month, with no success. Self-heal (also called (heal-all or allheal) is in the mint family (without the yummy smell or taste – look for a square stem and know that all plants in the mint family are edible). It is the most-studied medicinal herb ever; some cultures refer to it as “Heart of the Earth.”

Which makes sense. Self-heal:

In addition, self-heal is used to treat HIV, herpes, diabetes, high blood pressure, tuberculosis, liver cancer, endometriosis, amnesia, and dementia.

It’s antiviral, good for the belly, and tonifying for the whole system.

If you are grieving and sad and struggling and anxious and feel a deep and thorough exhaustion and uncertainty, self-heal is the plant ally to reach for.

So to have this plant appear in front of me seemed momentous. The world is on fire, aching with wounds both superficial and deep. The fortuitous appearance of self-heal at the beginning of my day’s journey was a reminder that we have, often right in front of us, the tools we need to heal ourselves and our communities.

It is vital to remember, though, that like other healing solutions, self-heal is not the pill that erases the symptoms. It takes time and careful attention to work, something that our myriad problems deserve.

I did not gather any self-heal to make a tincture. At my first glance, there was not a profusion of it, and I think that it’s a no-no on the AT to harvest plants. On the way down I saw much more, but by that time the medicine of knowing that plant stepped itself in front of me was enough. So I leave you with this video from She is of the Woods. This woman has SEEN SOME THINGS, and I love her for it. Here is her intro to this “plant ally”; follow her on YouTube to see how to make an oxymel, or follow my link to the dandelion oxymel here.