The Hawthorne, which some call the May Tree at this time of year bright with white flowers. It's got thorny branches, as well as beautiful flowers and medicinal properties. Like many powerful plants, you have to use it just right; in which case, it can, sometimes, save a life (it is used for certain heart issues), and if you don't, it can be a kind of poison. And myths - it is a tree/shrub loved by the Wee Folk in Irish mythology, and many a magical creature can, they say, be found amongst it.
I've been gathering roses in my mother's garden this week. Some of the roses are the ones my grandmother tended - lush red ones with a sweet aroma. They all have thorns.
I’ve been at my mother's house this past week because she fell a few weeks ago, at the end of March, broke her hip, had partial-hip-replacement surgery, and spent three weeks in rehab. This weekend I'm with Krissy in Hudson, which is also the weekend of the one-year anniversary of her mother's passing. Next week I will go back to California: my mom is not yet in a place where she can be by herself for long periods of time. It's amazing, really, how much care we (elders and children and so many of us, so often) need. And how certain kinds of care can be really hard to find: including that which is not especially difficult, but takes time, and attention, and presence, and a lot of small-scale problem solving. Or how nervous people are about things like adult diapers. Really. Get over it.
One of the healers I work with reminded me that we all have a rose at the base of our sacrum. For women, this is in the area of their womb (whether or not they have a womb, the rose is, as I've been told, still there), and we all have a rose at the center of our chest, near our heart chakra. I'm not entirely sure exactly who "we all" is, but I like the idea its most of humanity, and that we have roses that bloom in our energy space in this season.
Such tender beauties, these roses. Such sharp thorns.
I've been imagining a ritual for Mother's Day: people gathering together and drawing roses on one another's bellies and backs (with washable body ink of course, or perhaps some face paint?) and then, bedazzled, anointing one another with rose oil.
Amidst the thorns of life, we need the brightness of the bloom; the sweetness of the scent; the intoxication and the promise of more beauty. Garlands and dances and sultry nights and the beckoning of the woods just around the river bend. I've known roses to hang, like a trapeze artist, out of a tree, dangling over the edge of a river. Just 'cuz it can.
And amongst the challenges and dangers, we need thorns for protection, too.
In these times that we get to be living, I hope you are able to infuse your life with the power and beauty of flowers, the protection of their thorns, and the wisdom to use their medicine well.
Blessings of the spiral to you.
Rev Sara Jolena
Ps - We are indeed offering another cohort for our Origin Stories course…!!! you might want to come to the next informational webinar this coming Thursday!
