a neighborhood healing practice
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introducing: the neighborhood herbal series

image by HIVA KADIVAR

image by HIVA KADIVAR

folks. i’m starting a new series called, “the neighborhood herbal.” it’s going to be full of daily rituals, street herbalism tings, seasonal recipes + decadent grilled cheeses, and other musings i’m having about what a time to be alive. it will be curious and silly. it will be millennial and auntie. it will be an archive of adventures with my yard dog, karuna. it will be me selling herb-infused popsicles to my neighbors — but on the internet.

won’t you be my ~neighbor?~


the landscape of the NH series:


the outside table.  currently i’m sitting outside at my wooden picnic table that’s scattered with banana leaves, purple wisteria petals, and dogwood flowers from last night’s dinner. in preparation for the durham stay-at-home order, i surfed craigslist for an outdoor table. behold, dave. dave is a carpenter on craigslist who made the table i’m sitting on in literally one day. like made it and stained it and delivered it. some might call him an angel. anyway, it was clear that i would be spending a lot of time outside in our yard. crafting, eating, zoom conferencing.  this table has made the yard my new favorite room in the house. last night, we had an outdoor birthday dinner for my neighborhood-friend adé at the table. we lit long red candles stuck into wine bottles and ate peanut stew, za’atar potatoes (both from bryant terry’s afro-vegan cookbook), black coconut rice, a homemade sweet bread dropped off by a friend, red wine, mint & yarrow tea, and salted caramel pots-de-creme made by my loverpartner bex. it had to be the most beautiful outdoor dinner party for three people i’ve ever experienced. it was joy on-a-budget. it was one of the small things that breathes life and abundance into this challenging time. the table is the living room couch of the NH series.

the cast of characters. i’ve already mentioned two: bex and adé. you’ll hear about them often. the last is my yard dog, karuna. we have a metal gate which encloses our driveway and backyard (hence, yard dog). karuna—also known as miss runa (NOT to be confused with the rona), runie toons, anamanasina (a random sound i call her that has nothing to do with her name)— is my partner in daily routine and can generally be found hustling around the perimeter of the yard. on walks, she’s my friendly cover for foraging just about everything in the neighborhood —including all the flowers i picked for last night’s dinner. i’m lucky that my dear friend adé is also my actual neighbor. we say hi neighbor every morning like a PBS special. bex is my partner who doesn’t live with me but comes over daily because #QueerLoveInTheTimeOfCorona. since quarantine, the three of us have evening tv times where we watch tiger king and eat dessert like some real retirees. so it’s me, adé, bex, karuna - that’s the pod. this is my (Stitch voice) fahmily.

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my actual neighborhood. we live in a multiracial, middle + working class neighborhood without sidewalks. it’s edging towards suburbification with some 350Kish homes being built on our street which look like boring dot com. there are lots of flowers and medicinal weeds growing at the edge of the streets. even wild roses along the side of the Walgreens parking lot. our landlordes who are actually the BEST and our friends (and also farmers) have planted lots of native medicinal herbs in the backyard. we have hundreds of sweet potatoes from their farm in our garage. one of our neighbors are young white boys with a confederate flag hanging in the window of their shed. (i pulled a tarot card to see if i should be srsly afraid and it seems like they are not trying to harm us - a mild relief.) they say hi sometimes and cut our grass in the summer. this neighborhood is about two blocks from the hospital where i was born. i am immensely privileged: a full-time job and middle class income which hasn’t been compromised by the economic collapse, a healthy chosen family support system, a car, a therapist. i am part of the landscape here.

the why:

one dream i have is to be a neighborhood herbalist. someone who you call to your house to support your healing needs. i wish we had more of a practice of making house calls for medical needs. i also just love being a person in my neighborhood. oddly, i don’t really know my current neighbors that well. maybe this NH series plus the pandemic will change that. anyway, from community organizing to plant walks, i just love being that spunky neighborhood person who is curious and resourceful. i mean it’s wild that i live somewhere, the place i literally lay my head every night, and i don’t really know the people around me. another long-term vision of mine is to have my home be a small sanctuary for my community. an apothecary or medicine cabinet for one-on-one appointments. a place for outdoor feasts under a canopy of plants. something in my life’s purpose is about sharing beautiful food and herbal experiences in my neighborhood.

the pandemic has made the need for daily ritual so abundantly clear. i want to share mine with you. without ceremony, without meditation, without stamina, the uncertainty of the pandemic could swallow me. the prediction of thousands and thousands of deaths. the unknown of how long it will be till we reunite with our moms, best friends, comrades, healers. the absolute foolishness and genocidal behavior of the white house. for me, the way through this is to heal with the land i’m on. even if we’re far apart, the time for the neighborhood herbal is now. 

welcome to the neighborhood.


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