Waving Goodbye to Winter Vegetables // Part I
Two Vegan + Gluten-Free Recipes to Savour the Change of Season + The Inflammation of Mother Earth
Hello everyone. It has always been my intention to post one or two times a week and although I don’t always succeed in this goal, eventually I will. Thank you for being here and sticking around for the ride.
This piece was and still is about a few easy vegan and gluten-free recipes that I have enjoyed over the past weeks to savour the changing of the season, but when I sat down to write, something else flowed from my hands. If you are only interested in the recipes, please stay tuned. Those will be coming in the next 24/48 hours. We will also continue on the theme of healing inflammation at an individual level.
A few years ago while folding clothes, my ears perked up when I heard a podcast guest speaking about the inflammation of Mother Earth. I cannot remember the source, but there is a good chance that I was listening to Green Dreamer. This is an incredibly mind-opening podcast which I have been listening to for years and I highly recommend it.
Yes. Mother Earth is inflamed, there is no denying it. It would seem quite obvious but to many, but it is not. Before the industrial revolution we were an agrarian society, living in community, caring for each other and caring for the land. Families were working together in harmony with the seasons. Children were with their parents and extended families. Traditions and ways of being, seeing and doing were effortlessly passed down. Somewhere along the line, this shift in society and ‘acceleration of man’ led us to our current global crisis of consumerism, exploitation and individualism.
The numbing of our collective consciousness means that we are losing the understanding of our intricate connection with the planet. Of how we are not on it, but part of it. We continue to exploit and abuse Mother Earth and therefore ourselves. And because we are an extension of her, this inflammation is also our own present in countries, communities, families and individuals. The chronic disease, plagues, pandemics and the climate crisis are all a result of the lack of love, care, solidarity and culture of respect that we show for one another and for our source.
This negative energy has spread and now manifests in the women and mothers that walk upon her.
At the end of February, my eight-year-old son came down with pneumonia, which was, of course, very stressful and worrying. When he recovered, we found ourselves returning to the Guardia Medica on a Friday night as my daughter and I were suffering from the same persistent fever and cough.
These were the weeks when I was towing the family line on my own so I asked the three doctors if I could start our antibiotics in the morning because it would be difficult to find the will to deal with emergencies in the middle of the night. This is because 1. an antibiotic landed me in pronto soccorso this time last year and 2. my daughter has never taken an antibiotic at nearly 11 years of age and I was worried that she might have a similar reaction.
This is when the young male doctor with a God complex and who I might even call a testa di cazzo proceeded to rip up the prescriptions that he was writing and said ‘all of you mothers think that you are doctors’. Then I started sobbing. The female doctor shot a horrified look his way and took me under her wing. ‘She’s sovraccarico’ she said to the other doctors which means overloaded or overwhelmed and then she took all of the necessary steps to make sure that I left their office feeling secure.
This experience prompted me to reflect on the universal energy of the mother.
Someone recently wrote ‘yes to honesty in motherhood’ in Substack’s Notes and unfortunately this is an untold story that contains the heavy weight and contradictory forces of dignity, pride and shame. Mothers, grandmothers, daughters, aunts, cousins, sisters and friends, the females who are fruit of this energy and possess this innate ability of mothering or caregiving are crying. We are sitting alone in cars parked outside of supermarkets staring into a dissociated space with tears in our eyes, we are crying on dirty cotton pillowcases, behind bathroom doors with our head in our hands, into the sweet perfumed hair of our elderly parents and children and more often than not in the moments of vulnerability that you find in the doctor’s office.
Every mother I know has cried at the doctor desperately seeking a cure for their stress, anxiety, aches and pains. More. Than. Once. ‘You need to practice more self-care they say’ OR ‘You might want to consider an antidepressant’. One of my friends who is also lean on support and who also has a partner who works away for weeks at a time was told by her female doctor that she 'needed to go for a walk.’
In the sad and unfortunate turn of social media, we see sweatshirt-clad dirty bun-wearing mothers detailing their peril into screens in search of connection as they tread water trying not to drown in this societal breakdown. Motherhood in all its shapes and forms is a story and weight that we carry alone because in society’s recent evolution, we lost the daily support of our village and in this context many women with husbands and partners are essentially operating as single mothers.
If a woman is doing well in this climate, it's because Jesus and a decent support system have taken the wheel — and even this is not enough. My husband and I love our children to the moon and back 3 gazillion times and we are so thankful and blessed that they chose us to be their parents, please do not get me wrong, but I don’t think anything can prepare you for the joys and challenges that come with the nurturing and nourishing of these little souls in the absence of the wider net that is meant to catch us all.
Apparently, women were designed to bear pain, but as a white woman of privilege, I can’t even begin to fathom the depths of soul crushing agony suffered by the women of this world. Pardon my french, but did anyone ever think to design a f*cking threshold? It is only when I became a mother myself that I started to consider the big brave lives of my grandmothers — their worn hands, aching backs, sea of worries and broken hearts in communion with all of the women that came before them. I also considered the interwoven tapestry of their femininity, sexuality, desires, dreams, travels, realisations, talents, friends, lovers, gifts and joy.
We are often asked ‘if you could invite anyone to dinner who would it be?’ I would invite my female ancestors with the hope of viewing the moving images that formed films of their lives. Imagine if we had the ability to understand the big picture of their existence as well as their most intimate thoughts in an attempt to embrace the magic and wisdom of their essence while healing and shifting the negative patterns and chains that we have inherited?
It is only now that we are waking up to the concept and gravity of intergenerational trauma and story. Is this the moment where we all become aware of the patterns of patriarchy that are embroidered in the promises of the white dress? When we start breaking free? The truth is, we live in a Western society that does not care for or empower women and children. A society which does not see the value of the its most precious gift. Then people wonder why birth rates are dropping rapidly.
In Dr. Gabor Mate’s book ‘The Myth of Normal’ he speaks about the rapid rise of women’s autoimmune disease and illness and refers to a New York Times article where women are referred to as ‘the shock absorbers of our society’.
‘Women take twice as many anti-depressants, get 80 percent of autoimmune disease, they get more chronic illness, more chronic pain than men do’.
And because mothers are not all right neither are the children. This is why we are seeing the children’s mental heath crisis detailed by Dr. Erica Kosimarthis. She suggests that we must sacrifice ourselves in order to raise emotionally stable children, because no one can replace a mother. Motherhood is a gift and a choice albeit sometimes not an easy one for some, but in the modern shape of things is this then a covenant that we must sign with our blood? Don’t we owe another model and possibility to our children especially our daughters? As multidimensional souls with a predestined purpose shouldn’t our emancipation include the possibility to be present for our families AND the realisation of the expanding potential of our dreams?
Our children, the ones that belong to all of us, are losing their religion and/or spiritual paths (another factor in longevity) and the possibility to obtain the critical indigenous knowledge that is meant to be passed on to them when tripping behind the heels of their elders. This culmination of knowing that contributes to our universal care and healing is slowly slipping away.
And what about the men? They hunted, they gathered, engaged in war and farmed with the main scope of protecting and providing for their communities (when they weren’t trying to expand their empires of course). They did not however, grab their suit and briefcases in order to leave the house all day or for weeks on end. When they did, there was the said village. The truth is we are all suffering here on some level and we might speculate that the mother energy of this world is also inflamed and lacking support because of the unbalanced energy of the male counterpart.
What is the solution to this societal breakdown as we watch the walls fall before our eyes in our dysfunctional governments and systems while bearing witness to these major global shifts that seem so out of our control? How can we heal our lives, families, communities and in turn the earth despite it all?
I like to think that the greatest acts of healing begin in our own gardens where we can plant the seeds of change by tending to our own self care and recovery so that we can partake in small yet powerful acts of change, faith, kindness and hope. By trying our best to give the healing energy that we would like to receive in return and by standing for what is just. With this clarity we can manifest new systems and realities by placing value on the lives and basic human rights that are our birthright.
One of my best friends from another life, who just happens to be male, once said to me, ‘you just have to keep on swinging’. This is a mantra that helps me find the strength to get back in the ring on the days when I can barely find the energy to put my two feet on the floor. We just have to keep on swinging. We can’t give up.
Mother Nature may be inflamed but she continues to move forward despite it all. She is here and she is strong and beautiful, she is regenerative and capable of healing.
We continue to poison and exploit her, but in her unconditional love she perseveres to provide her bounty to us, her children.
Right now the Rieti plain is bursting with the hope and promise that comes with colour. White, yellow and bright pink buds are exploding against the dull terrain. Bright green carpets are starting to unfold and sweet buds of baby yellow primrose and violets are pushing their sweet faces through the ground to say hello.
I dare to repeat that I genuinely mourn the changing of seasons and this also applies to the seasons of life. The every day growth and abundance of what lies ahead can be so exciting and promising, but it can also be hard to reflect on what we are leaving behind. Precious moments cannot be fully revisited and this is sometimes regretful especially if we feel like we may not have lived them to their fullest. We are blessed to be able to find solace and gratitude among the colourful smiling faces and full plates in photographs that exist to remind of us of what was plentiful and good. They also remind us of what we might strive to recapture.
If we want to heal the mother energy of this world in order to benefit from the bounty that emanates from her when she is loved and supported, then we must prioritise women and children. We can also bring light to this mission by developing systems and programs that promote the interconnectedness that empowers people, education, fair circular economies, tradition, cultural heritage, art, conviviality, spirituality, love, equality, justice and of course good clean water and food as part of sovereign and culturally appropriate regenerative food systems. Women must also commit to supporting, honouring and protecting themselves and one another.
This is a restorative dream for a more promising future.
I love your writing !