White Pine: The Generous One

Dear wild hearts,

Two weeks ago, I started writing this letter to you all.  It was full of updates regarding new classes I’d be teaching, events I’d be vending, and concerts I’d be playing.  The night I began, the moon shone prescient and orange over the horizon.  In later days, as it slowly waned, incredible and overwhelming changes took place.  We learned and began practicing “social distancing”-- a phrase previously unknown in our lexicon.  Schools shutdown, work paused, entertainment events cancelled, and most of us found ourselves “quarantined” in our homes, hopefully with family; perhaps alone.

I offer this as a moment of reflection. Let’s take a deep inhale, recognizing our emotions of the past two weeks, and slowly exhale, releasing.  Arriving, here. This morning, we sit beneath a dark, new moon.  In terms of the lunation cycle, this is a clean slate; a fresh start-- an ideal time to envision what you’d like to call into your life.  Perhaps it’s as simple as gentleness with yourself; not beating yourself up for not “doing”.  May we all allow rest.

As the world around us palpably slows down, we find ourselves in this unprecedented time to rest, and in doing so, we may attune inward and gain insight into our previously unspoken-to passions.  What do you desire? I speak of the deepest, hidden desires:  those that your child self always aspired to; those that hint at your purpose in this lifetime.  Maybe we get out some colored pencils and draw; pick up a forgotten guitar; take time to write the happenings of the heart.  No need to create a masterpiece; just free yourself with expression.

I, for one, with all of my external commitments cancelled, have begun to write more.  It feels good-- to simply journal as I did as a child.  By the age of 12, I deeply desired to be a writer for the New York Times.  Instead, I find myself here-- a train ride from New York City-- writing letters and posts about plants, spirit, and the stars.  Thank you for being on this journey with me.

In the coming posts, I intend to offer accessible, herbal support & recipes by sharing three plant allies I have been connecting with in wake of the virus.   Last, I will leave you with an etymological musing about the god Pan and the Panic & Pandemic we find ourselves in.

Let’s start off the series with White Pine:

Taking a moment to breathe deep with White Pine

In times of turmoil, we may call on White Pine— known by the indigenous Haudenosaunee as the “Peace Tree”. The presence of this tree ushers us into a place of gentleness, like the soft brush of its needles against the skin. A deep inhale of its terpene-rich aroma allows us to ground into clarity. We can let go as we grow into a new, difficult phase— the unknown.

Easily identified by their long, slender needles, White Pine surrounds us abundantly here in the Northeast. To know a White Pine is present, you sometimes need to look up: these fast-growing grandmothers often reach 150 feet. Though, to know where these trees stand, you can also scour the forest floor for their fallen branches.

White Pines generously drop limbs as they climb in height, especially in windy circumstances. I see this as an energetic signature of their medicine: this tree guides us through the process of shedding, so we may continue to grow and remain steady in uncertain times.

As long as the needles on the fallen branches still hold their green color, you can collect them for medicine. Snip off the needles and small twigs into your basket to gather.

White Pine needles are shown to be 5x higher in Vitamin C, by volume, than oranges. These needles and twigs are abundant in resins, essential oils, and acids, which primarily act on the respiratory system. Indicated for wet, mucousy coughs, White Pine will help expectorate fluid from the throat and lungs. This tree helps us breathe.

To maintain most of its heat-sensitive Vitamin C, a simple tea can be made of the needles by chopping them up and steeping them in freshly boiled water for about 10 minutes. This tea is slightly sweet, piney, and surprisingly delicious. It’s been one of my favorites as of late.

To make a stronger cough medicine, combine 1 part chopped needles & twigs to 2 parts water, cover, and gently simmer for about an hour, until the water is just above the pine. Then, strain out the plant, and continue to simmer until the liquid is reduced in half. To this, add maple syrup or honey to taste, refrigerate, and take frequently! It’ll last about 1-2 weeks in the fridge.