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Tag: oats

Avena Sativa: The Warm Weather Medicine of Milky Oats

June 3, 2013October 4, 2021

We’ve slipped into one of the most delicious times of the year– that liminal, lofty space between spring and summer. The raucous rush of springtime ephemerals has died down, leaving a haphazard cascade of petals dissolving beneath the trees. And yet, the hot days of dry grasses and hibiscus have yet to arrive….

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Asia Suler is a writer, teacher, medicine maker and seeker who lives in the blue folds of the southern Appalachian mountains. Woolgathering and Wildcrafting is her grass-stained journal from the hillsides of the living world. It’s full of recipes, musings, plant monographs and poetics. So grab a cup of tea and come on in for a spell. Open up to a page in this shared tome to find a hand-pressed flower, words of comfort, or a small glen of inspiration for your day. Visit Asia’s online classes for more.


  • Illuminations
  • Plant Stories
  • Words for Hard Times
  • Nourishment
  • The Otherworld
  • Mineral Medicine
  • Sacred Entrepreneurship 
  • Travelogues
  • Seasonal Celebration
    • Winter
    • Spring
    • Summer
    • Fall

     



Pine is a powerful medicine for continuance and ev Pine is a powerful medicine for continuance and evergreen hope throughout the deciduous world. In winter, when all the earth is dark leaf litter and bark, pine shines with green light. High in vitamin C, pine needles invigorate the spirit when darkness seems to have invaded your thoughts and help keep the body healthy and glowing throughout the wintertime. Zesty and bright, pine enlivens the senses, including the sense of our own self-worth. Just find a tree near you and ask permission to take a needle or two. Then munch as you walk. Nibbling on pine as I move my body never fails to help me shed anxiety and bring me back to the present moment.
Being willing to go into the darkness is a strengt Being willing to go into the darkness is a strength— one we don’t highlight nearly enough in our culture. Those who are brave enough to enter dark places, without and within, are the artisans of a new era. They are the cave explorers who are here to show us not only a way out, but a way home. You are one of these innovators, and the pigments you carry in your hands—gathered from all the labyrinths you’ve walked through and the spirals you have graduated from— are coloring our world with hope.
There is a certain kind of clarity that comes in w There is a certain kind of clarity that comes in with the cold. A sharpness that forms slow. Like an icicle growing from the rock face where water once flowed. In winter, the inner things grow. Every season has its gifts. And in winter, if we can slow down enough to keep pace with the quiet, the truth you’ve sought in the bramble of other seasons will be there. Open as the hillside, and ready to be known.
I’ve always cherished the divinatory mystery of I’ve always cherished the divinatory mystery of winter. It is the only time when the exterior word is allowed to go fallow and the interior worlds, our innermost places, are given permission to take up all of the sky. It is a time for inner wonderings and wanderings, woven blankets and wool gathering, self-study and the smallest facets of wonder.
A friend once shared with me a mantra that, growin A friend once shared with me a mantra that, growing up, her Mom offered whenever life was hard. When faced with mysteries, let downs and catastrophes, try being curious. When life seems to fall apart at the seams, or you make a long life of New Year's intentions and each one is like a skipping stone that misses the mark completely, instead of berating yourself or looping back into a familiar pattern of thinking, Try being curious. Curiosity is at the center of all growth, all invention. It is the drive to experience, unfettered by judgment or shoulds. The sheer desire to understand what is and, of course, what could be.
These first few weeks of the year have always felt These first few weeks of the year have always felt like a special, liminal space to me. A crack in the long ice of winter, a small window to bask in the glow of self-reflection and nurturement. A kind of hot spring for the soul in the dead of winter. In our culture, January is often a time when we attempt to work through massive lists of scheduled self-improvements—shoulds and wills and musts—the desire to shape our lives in a time of soft indefinition. Sometimes this can feel empowering. And sometimes it feels like donning a coat of stones. So what if, instead of weighting this time with a new set of rules to hone the selves we know, we began with a fresh curiosity about our deeper unknowns? What if, instead of making decisions about who we are and what needs improving, we simply begin with a curiosity, a willingness to peer over the thaw edge and deep into the inner mystery?
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  • Illuminations
  • Plant Stories
  • Words for Hard Times
  • Nourishment
  • The Otherworld
  • Mineral Medicine
  • Sacred Entrepreneurship 
  • Travelogues
  • Seasonal Celebration
    • Winter
    • Spring
    • Summer
    • Fall



Asia Suler is a writer, teacher, medicine maker and seeker who lives in the blue folds of the southern Appalachian mountains. Woolgathering and Wildcrafting is her grass-stained journal from the hillsides of the living world. It’s full of recipes, musings, plant monographs and poetics. So grab a cup of tea and come on in for a spell. Open up to a page in this shared tome to find a hand-pressed flower, words of comfort, or a small glen of inspiration for your day. Visit Asia’s online classes for more.




Pine is a powerful medicine for continuance and ev Pine is a powerful medicine for continuance and evergreen hope throughout the deciduous world. In winter, when all the earth is dark leaf litter and bark, pine shines with green light. High in vitamin C, pine needles invigorate the spirit when darkness seems to have invaded your thoughts and help keep the body healthy and glowing throughout the wintertime. Zesty and bright, pine enlivens the senses, including the sense of our own self-worth. Just find a tree near you and ask permission to take a needle or two. Then munch as you walk. Nibbling on pine as I move my body never fails to help me shed anxiety and bring me back to the present moment.
Being willing to go into the darkness is a strengt Being willing to go into the darkness is a strength— one we don’t highlight nearly enough in our culture. Those who are brave enough to enter dark places, without and within, are the artisans of a new era. They are the cave explorers who are here to show us not only a way out, but a way home. You are one of these innovators, and the pigments you carry in your hands—gathered from all the labyrinths you’ve walked through and the spirals you have graduated from— are coloring our world with hope.
There is a certain kind of clarity that comes in w There is a certain kind of clarity that comes in with the cold. A sharpness that forms slow. Like an icicle growing from the rock face where water once flowed. In winter, the inner things grow. Every season has its gifts. And in winter, if we can slow down enough to keep pace with the quiet, the truth you’ve sought in the bramble of other seasons will be there. Open as the hillside, and ready to be known.
I’ve always cherished the divinatory mystery of I’ve always cherished the divinatory mystery of winter. It is the only time when the exterior word is allowed to go fallow and the interior worlds, our innermost places, are given permission to take up all of the sky. It is a time for inner wonderings and wanderings, woven blankets and wool gathering, self-study and the smallest facets of wonder.
A friend once shared with me a mantra that, growin A friend once shared with me a mantra that, growing up, her Mom offered whenever life was hard. When faced with mysteries, let downs and catastrophes, try being curious. When life seems to fall apart at the seams, or you make a long life of New Year's intentions and each one is like a skipping stone that misses the mark completely, instead of berating yourself or looping back into a familiar pattern of thinking, Try being curious. Curiosity is at the center of all growth, all invention. It is the drive to experience, unfettered by judgment or shoulds. The sheer desire to understand what is and, of course, what could be.
These first few weeks of the year have always felt These first few weeks of the year have always felt like a special, liminal space to me. A crack in the long ice of winter, a small window to bask in the glow of self-reflection and nurturement. A kind of hot spring for the soul in the dead of winter. In our culture, January is often a time when we attempt to work through massive lists of scheduled self-improvements—shoulds and wills and musts—the desire to shape our lives in a time of soft indefinition. Sometimes this can feel empowering. And sometimes it feels like donning a coat of stones. So what if, instead of weighting this time with a new set of rules to hone the selves we know, we began with a fresh curiosity about our deeper unknowns? What if, instead of making decisions about who we are and what needs improving, we simply begin with a curiosity, a willingness to peer over the thaw edge and deep into the inner mystery?
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