On Emotions
Contents:
1. The bag of poo analogy
2. Herbs to help with emotions flying around in the world (both yours and other peoples’)
3. Herbs for compassion with boundaries
4. Herbs for knowing our own gut feelings, and clearing what is not ours
5. Herbs for balance and grounding, in volatile situations
6. How to use the bag of poo analogy
1. The 'bag of poo' analogy.
Other peoples emotions are like bags of poo.
And what normally happens in a conversation, is that someone comes to you with their bag of poo, that they don't want to carry around, so they hand it over to you.
It can be like this:
'ugh you wouldn't believe the day I had'
or
'I heard the saddest story yesterday'
or
'Can I just vent for a minute?'
Or even
‘You’re such an asshole!’
It is usually done unconsciously, where a person doesn't realise that they are uncomfortable feeling an emotion (maybe they don't even realise they are feeling it), and because they are uncomfortable, they look for some way to discharge it, and all of a sudden their emotions are in your space.
That's the bag of poo being handed over. They don’t want to hold it, or sit with it, or process it, so they get rid of it as quickly as possible.
And what we're TRAINED to do, as human beings in society, is to take this on in some way, to relieve their burden.
So we reach out our hand, take the bag, and say 'thanks!'.
Then, after the conversation, the other person sighs and wiggles their shoulders and says 'wow I feel so much better, thank you' (or if they’ve been venting their anger on you, they feel somehow justified and rightous) and then we are stuck standing there, with this bag of poo in our hands, wondering what we did to get here.
Now... imagine another way.
Imagine that when someone hands out their bag of poo, we just stand there with them. They could even say 'my arm is getting super tired' as a hint, and we can say 'there's a trash can right over there and you are free to drop this poo whenever you want'. It isn't our poo. We don't need to pick it up. It can get awkward, or they might even get pissed off about it. But if you can sit with that discomfort, what transpires is amazing.
We can be immensely compassionate, open-hearted, 100% there with a person, while trusting that they have the capacity to handle their own shit.
In fact, I'd say that it's infinitely MORE compassionate and empowering to trust a person to handle their own shit, than it is to think we can somehow do it better, help relieve their burden. Especially when that burden-relieving really truly does nothing for us, or them.
This is not being uncaring. It's being as caring as you can possibly be.
It's not being cold, it's being able to stand there, dive in if you need to, with a person so that they can deal with this bag of shit, and be willing to witness their pain, turmoil, trauma, and allowing them the freedom and honour of not trying to change them.
It is the bravest thing you can do, to witness another person's pain, and accept them fully in that moment, because you see your OWN pain in them, and your own demons. Most often, you don't actually want to relieve the other person, you want to relieve *yourself* of this discomfort.
Try, instead, being there. In it. With them. Without taking it on.
Some people will get pissed that you're not taking their bag, but most people will start to blossom under the support of your acceptance.
See how it changes them; see how it changes you. See how this can change the world.
2. Herbs to help with emotions flying around in the world (both yours and other peoples’)
In thinking about herbs for this, I wanted to think about *processing*. Not just the establishment of boundaries as the throwing up of a wall, but in the sense of filtering, or knowing our own hearts better so that we can see what is ours and not-ours, and also connecting more deeply with our GUTS so that we can know when our bodies are telling something. And also, most importantly to me: how can we connect without feeling overwhelmed; how can we be there for a person, without being afraid of somehow taking on what they are feeling? How can we sit with a friend in grief, or in pain, and be fully immersed without taking on anything of theirs? And how can we express our emotions to others, without simultaneously dumping them on another person to process?
3. Herbs for compassion with boundaries
Rose // Rosa spp.
Rose is my all-time favourite boundary/compassion herb. And when it comes to interacting with others and managing the swirling mass of emotions out there in the world, we need both boundaries and compassion. I always picture that gorgeous, soft, open flower, releasing its scent into the world (which apparently jim mcdonald hates but that is HIS BAG OF POO), while utterly protected by its thorns. And those thorns? They’re not sticking a mile out. They’re not the first thing you see when you get close to a rose patch, in fact, the scent is so enticing (*glares at jim*) that you probably find yourself face-deep in a patch of wild roses before you notice you’re being stabbed (I picture the rose saying ‘back away slowly and sniff from a safe distance, dude’).
Rose, quite simply, softens us. The world is full of people who try to make themselves harder, tougher, faster, more driven, focused, and direct. All of this trying comes from a sort of tension— we tense ourselves as if to do battle daily, and to protect our soft hearts from the onslaughts of the world around us. Rose softens the tension that we hold to protect ourselves, but because its clever, it doesn’t leave us without our own thorns of defence.
Its astringency tightens tissues, and it does this on a tissue-based level, but it also does so on a grand scale, to our *energy* as a whole, which means that as we’re softening, we’re also tightening up, starting to be able to tell where we end and the world around us begins. It’s not a hard wall of a boundary, but astringency leads to better filtration. We become much more capable of knowing who we are and as a result, where our boundaries are. Softening and strengthening, relaxing and tightening, the most beautiful soft petals and sensual scent, and those thorns that will cut you without second thought.
Read more: Kiva's article
Found in: Wild rose elixir, Ocotillo + Wild rose incense, wild rose & sandalwood body oil, wild rose & sandalwood bath soak
Hawthorn // Crataegus spp.
Heart-friend and support for the grief state, hawthorn is like the hug you receive when you've been holding yourself together, feeling alone and unstable, that finally allows you to let yourself fall apart. When you have to go in and delve into the deepest, darkest parts of yourself, hawthorn is a supportive anchor saying 'You've got this; I won't let you fall apart completely'.
How it does this, I have no idea, but I have an analogy that I like. When we fall apart due to grief, it's like most of our entirety gets swept away in a tsunami of it. It swallows us, breaks us into pieces, dashes us against the rocks, and washes us up on the shore, battered and broken. But as we're being pulled to pieces, there's always that constant thrum in the background that's 'you' there. I mean, it's the constant that most of us aren't even aware of because we're so caught up with the surface stuff (I am my job, I am what I wear, I am my reactions, I am my gender, I am my sexuality, I am gay/straight/poly/queer/neurodivergent/cis/trans/alawyer/adoctor/adeskjockey/acashier/ajock/anartist/aniceperson/abadperson/lonely/confident/cool/aplantperson/rich/poor/inarelationship/loved/etcetcetc.) Except, if we were to chip away at every single self-identifier we have, we'd still be there, still exist, still be *us*. When our lives fall apart, either in grand explosive fashion or in little pieces, and when WE fall apart as a result, that nugget of 'us' at the center of our being remains constant. And it's that nugget of 'us'ness that hawthorn connects to and strengthens, so that the rest of us can fall to pieces around it. If our entire being was a map and the 'you are here' sign moved around on said map depending on how we feel on any given day, hawthorn points to the land itself so that the lines on the paper can dissolve and rearrange themselves.
Protector of the heart, protector of the faerie realm, which in our own psyches is the tender young part of ourselves that still sees the world with innocence and possibility. Hawthorn wraps itself around this like a protective shield allowing it to blossom again. Hawthorn's thorns are hard and sharp, sticking out at (at least what feels like) random angles to catch you unawares. It's interesting to me that these plants that are so so easy to love are the ones that protect themselves so well-- my first instinct with all of them is to fling myself on them and hug them, and yet you can't do that at all. I have tried it with a big pile of hawthorn twigs and leaves and flowers, and, well it hurts. One of the things you learn is that you can experience something just by hanging with it, being near it-- you don't need to fling yourself on it and try to hug the daylights out of it. For those of us who sometimes lack boundaries, this is an important lesson, and it's a lesson that hawthorn especially can teach us well: to experience something deeply you don't need to lose yourself, but actually to inhabit yourself more fully.
Hawthorn helps us soften by strengthening the parts that burn brightly through the darkness. That is, hawthorn affects the core of who we are, our hearts, not just physical but that little spark of awareness that was you before you knew what an 'I' was. Hawthorn wraps itself around it like a protective shield, whispering things like 'you've got this' and 'you can fall apart now I'll hold you up' and 'a little restructuring is ok but we'll hold it together here' and for those of us who are afraid to soften, afraid that to let go a little bit means the entire world will cave in or fall down, or rush in like a deluge, hawthorn is the beacon in the storm.
Learn more about hawthorn: jim's video
Found in: Heart + Happy, Deep forest tea, deep forest soak
4. Herbs for knowing our own gut feelings, and clearing what is not ours
For knowing our own gut feelings, and clearing what is not ours:
St John's wort // Hypericum perforatum
Hypericum is one of those herbs that's known in non-herbal circles as a 'herb for depression'. I remember trying it in the late 1990s because I suffered from severe depression. It made my belly area cramp like crazy, so I stopped taking it, even though I had actually started to feel really good. I didn't think much more about it until years later, when I'd learned a lot more about herbs than 'x treats y', and started thinking about feelings and the solar plexus. You see the solar plexus area in our bodies is where our willpower comes from. It's where we interpret information and make decisions and then put the energy out into the world to act on those decisions. A lot of depression that I see comes from a blockage, of sorts, in this area: where there's something getting in the way of a person's being able to act directly in their own life. This makes one feel powerless, and there's little more to make you depressed and hate your life than feeling powerless.
There's another aspect to this, however. Many of us, when facing pain, tend to disassociate. For some its dramatic (ie. diagnosable), for others maybe less so, but the underlying principle is the same: I don't want to feel this so I'm going to leave. Our bellies, our solar plexes, our information processing centers, are the easiest for us to check out of because it's the deep, dark, FEELING place in our bodies, that can't be rationalised away.
St. John's wort directs energy back to the solar plexus. Gently but firmly. It directs energy back to the place where we have gut feelings, and underneath those gut feelings is a place of surrender and trust, where we trust ourselves and our bodies to know, to feel, to guide us. As a result of energy flowing back in a place where it's not been for a while, energy in our belles and trunks start moving more, resulting in less stagnation, and the lessening of that stagnation leads to less teary fits, less frustrated outbursts. But, the real gift is an ability to process feelings directly, and stay with them.
For more staying power, I like to combine with aralia (racemosa or Californica).
Read more: Kiva Rose's article
Found in: Into the deep: Grief support formula
Milk thistle
Milk thistle isn’t a herb that normally comes up in conversations about boundaries, but it comes up for me a lot in conversations about *processing*. Milk thistle is *phenomenal* for aiding the body in all its detoxification pathways, and is specific for restoring liver function when it is impaired. All of this makes me think about processing, and people who have a hard time clearing what isn’t theirs, both in the body and in the emotions. And to be honest, I don’t see much difference with both: it’s a function, that has to do with transforming and clearing what is unessential, and when this function is impaired, it is impaired, regardless of what part of a person it appears in. So I use milk thistle for processing issues, regardless of whether its physical toxins (like exposure to a toxic substance) or emotional toxins (like exposure to a toxic person).
Found in: Tidying Up, Acorn & Roots
5. Herbs for balance and grounding, in volatile situations
Oplopanax horridus // devil's club
(image credit: Leslie Lekos)
See those thorns up there? Devil's club knows about self-protection. Growing in the deep, dark forests where moisture abounds, and where said moisture seeps into everything, boundaries are so necessary. This is the world of mycelium, where everything is a part of everything else, where the one-ness of the place combined with the moisture, the fog, the moss, the sponginess of it all, makes for one seeping massive organism. How to be an individual surrounded by that? How to stand tall in your self-hood and be not soft and spongy but a sharp beacon of individual strength? Giant thorns, that's how. I consider devil's club to be an archetypal plant of self-hood and inner strength because of this.
One of the reasons I think oplopanax is so incredibly powerful is that it's connection in our energy is to our deepest sense of who we are-- the part of ourself that has no words to describe it, but just *is*. It's the us when we were born, the us that is free of constraint and 'shoulds' and trauma and fear. It's our past and our potential, all wrapped into one. That part of ourselves is always there, but for most people it's buried quite deeply. It's an energy that exists deep at our core, and emerges from our ancestry and our blood, and it blossoms in our chests, driving us forward even if we can no longer feel or hear it speaking to us. Devil's club connects us to that part of ourselves.
One of the nice side effects of this connection is that things can no longer hurt us as much.
On a more physical level, oplopanax is used to balance blood sugar levels, to treat infections, to help raise energy levels over time in exhaustion. Among many other things. It's an amazing, powerful plant, and one I feel very grateful to receive boxes of in the mail.
Read more: Ryan Drum's article
Found in: Root + Heart, deep forest soak
(fresh withania root from last autumn)
Withania Somnifera // ashwagandha
I think of ashwagandha as an essential herb to maintain balance when surrounded by fluctuations. Labile blood sugar, blood pressure, emotional states, sleep states, all benefit greatly from ashwagandha’s balancing nature, and it is one of the first herbs I reach for when I want my stress responses to NOT be so influenced by my perceptions of my environment. It’s as if the ashwagandha gives the body a deeper inner compass, that isn’t as strongly affected by what is coming at us in the world.
Ashwagandha is a magic herb that helps to restore strength and vitality to a totally burned out body. I think on some level, it teaches us about nourishment and taking in energy and nutrients from the world around us. There's a way to move through life, to get things done, to move forwards, that doesn't draw on our vital reserves. Ashwagandha can teach us about that if we listen, showing us how to rest, to replenish, and how to expend energy that is renewable and sustainable.
One of the ways it does this is by first, helping us build our reserves back up. Ashwagandha helps us sleep more deeply. It's a really incredible feeling for those of us who tend to feel agitated and wake up at the slightest thing (air change, movement, light, sound, random thought) to sleep deeply through the night. And the profound feeling of being rested as a result, after a while of sleeping deeply, is enough to make you want to make offerings to the withania spirits forever.
Increasing vitality over time, while reducing anxiety, jitters, shakiness and the brain fogs and inability to think clearly that come along with these things, ashwagandha is really incredibly beneficial for anyone who's burned out. It has a balancing effect on the immune system, increases metabolism, helps balance thyroid imbalance, helps increase libido (if decreased libido is due to exhaustion), and overall increases general well-being.
I love taking withania as a tincture (fresh tincture is my favourite), but it's also really nice in teas and decoctions (recipes below), and my most recent favourite is applied externally, in a bath or body oil. The benefit of the external applications is that they also help with some underlying changes-- that is, they help your body find that place that the ashwagandha can teach us about receiving nourishment and nurturing.
The only caution I'd provide is that it can sometimes help people feel so good so quickly that they don't change the underlying patterns that had them burning out in the first place. So, take withania, but also change your life. The former will help you get through the latter, but the latter is what will sustain you for the years to come.
Read more: Kiva's article
Found in: Milky oat + Ashwagandha Elixir // Maple + Roots // Deep Roots
6. How to use the bag of poo analogy
How to use the bag of poo analogy in your own being, to both contain your own emotions (but process or express them healthily, obviously :P), or to avoid being dumped with other peoples’ poo-bags.
Start to pay attention to how you feel when other people are talking to you. It’s not about being emotional (which happens all the time, as we are emotional creatures), but the off-loading of emotion when something is too much.
It’s sometimes easier to pay attention to in yourself first: Have you ever had a bad experience and immediately wanted to call someone to vent? That bad feeling that you want to be free from? That’s your bag of poo. Feel it for a minute, and feel how you can still communicate to someone without handing it off to someone else. Feel for example, how if you’re angry, you can communicate that you’re angry, without necessarily pushing that anger onto another person. Or how you can be grieving, and feel so much sadness, and express that sadness any way you can, without wanting the sadness itself to be relieved by anyone you come into contact with.
With another person, when they come to you with an emotional situation, feel the difference between being there and being compassionate, and wanting to alleviate or take on what they are feeling. This can be very difficult when it is someone you love and they are suffering, but think of how much of a disservice it does to them to take away their power of processing. And instead of reaching out to share the emotional burden, reach out with your attention, and presence, and heart, and simply BE there for them.
I think this ability is even more important as a healer: you can be simultaneously 100% engaged and present and empathetic with a client, and even feel what they are feeling, without picking it up and carrying it home with you. It is their bag of poo. All we are doing as healers/ practitioners, is helping them find the best way to deal with it.
And this is going to sound odd, but the key is not caring. I don’t mean not caring about the person (duh :P ), but not caring about the outcome. If we want a person’s suffering to be relieved then we become invested in their own process. I think we do this because we cannot sit with our *own* pain/ anger/ grief/ fear. We find it so intolerable that we see other people as being in intolerable situations too. We don’t want them to be in it, and we don’t want to be there with them while they’re in it, because it reminds us too much of our own suffering.
For some reason we think that the point of life is to be happy, or free from discomfort, but what if the point isn’t to be relieved of it at all? What if the point is to be able to experience all the nuances of a life? What if a life well lived is a life where we suck the marrow out of every moment, regardless of what that moment brings? Change your perspective on pain: see that it is not intolerable, and that the most empowering thing you can do for another person is be with them, and not try and change them.
Their emotions, or bags of poo, can be like waves, that wash over us, but not INTO us. And if you find that place inside yourself where you reach out and pick it up, then you can simply… not. It can feel slightly awkward at first, but try it anyway. Try instead trusting that you can handle your own emotions, and they can handle theirs. <3