plant medicine as mirror fundamentals.

when all else fails, reach for the soil. tend to my roots.

for me this means putting my hands in dirt. i repot house plants, i tend to the garden, i soak seeds, i read garden magazines and plot new flower beds. i go to the plants.

i know i need to go to the plants when all the other things i think i know don’t work.

and when i listen to the plants, quite literally sometimes if i just watch where they are in their life cycles i can usually find where i am in mine.

when i let myself be with the plants, the plant that speaks to me often has the medicine i need. for instance, i;m feeling all out of sorts lately. my mother bought me a gardenia a few weeks ago. when i came home from vacation with my brother and his family the gardenia was looking a little faded around the edges. i was feeling faded around the egdes, disney vacation is not my idea of restorative activity. the gardenia caught my attention and asked for daily hydration. the gardenia demanded its circumstances/requiremtns be met. and so i had to listen, or lose the gardenia. as i had to tend to my own needs, hydration and rest, or lose my health.

the plants mirror our reality. they are the medicine.

I'm tired.

In fact I am fucking exhausted.  I am tired of health looking a certain way.  I am tired of skinny white girls in yoga pants.  I don't want to see your smoothie bowl.  In fact keep your pictures of chia seeds to yourself.  That may all work for other people but it is not my experience.  I like to add butter to the pan before I start cooking.  

I am fat.  I don't apologize for the space I take up.  I don't want to lose weight.  I want to love myself.  I want to go to the doctor and not have the first thing they do is ask me to get on a scale.

I am scared to talk about this shit.  I don't want to talk about being fat because my body is not up for others to discuss, judge or comment on.  But I have to talk about it because it is my life.  It is my reality.  I have had complete strangers ask me what it is like to be a fat waitress.  I use the handicap bathroom stall because then my thigh doesn't touch the toilet paper dispenser.  These experiences are my own but I am sure there are others who can relate.  

This post is short because this is hard, and it makes me feel raw and vulnerable.  But I promise to show up here to honor my frustration, sadness, anger and celebrations of being a fat grrl.  

Much love, 

Cathlin Star