Journal

Peak summer usually goes in one of two ways for us: either a frenetic, jam-packed, last-gasp-how-is-it-August-already plan vortex OR a gentle leaning in to the long, drowsy swelters of golden lit days, where the only thing (hopefully) on the agenda is tomatoes, a cup of tea, and a swim, if at all humanly possible. As with everything, choosing the latter usually comes when we really tune our ear and listen to what our bodies are telling us *feels* good and just do *that*. This sort of reckoning isn't, at its heart, radical. But in the widening whirlwind of fevered "shoulds" and "musts", reconnecting to the simple medicine of listening to the day's mood and requirements and answering—with something slow, something grown, something green—can feel like a revelation.

Clinical herbalist, Appalachian woodsmaiden, and chief plant mystic behind beloved small-batch herbal apothecary Wooden Spoon Herbs, Lauren Haynes, has built her life and business around connecting and nourishing just these sorts of epiphanies. We sat down with Lauren, writing from her herbalist's tinkerers research kitchen (in a dreamy old converted greenhouse the velvety hills of Tennessee, of course), to talk about the traditions of herbal remedy, how the sacred feminine connects to Earth wisdoms (we were beyond delighted to discover that she and fellow OZMA friend/celebrated plant-whisperer Erin Lovell Verinder took a witchy ladies roadtrip together earlier this year), and the patience and tonic of time as taught by plants.

Last year was the year of the garden. Well...last year was the year of many things and, to be honest, every year is the year of the garden because that is the very nature of both years and gardens. BUT. Last year we found ourselves overwhelmingly, gratefully, almost seismically turning to the quiet certainty and restorative possibilities of green things. What is it about the call of the greening world that we feel so deeply? Something hard to name, a resonance, a physical longing asked and then answered by dirt under the fingernails, the richness of dark earth, sweet blossom, and the music of breathing it in, and the salt of sweat falling into the soil alongside the coneflower seeds. 

Herbalist, nutritionist, energetic healer, and plant whisperer Erin Lovell Verinder puts this longing, this innate kinship with growing things into words better than we ever could: plants offer us great lessons in reciprocity, she says, the sowing of seeds is the giving, the reaping of flowers the receiving. May plants hold you, soothe you, fortify you, restore you, and ignite you. This is a mighty time to be here in the arms of mama earth. And, as always, she has got your back.

We stepped into Erin's garden—peak summer for us, full winter for her in Australia—to dig deeper into her generous sense of the mystical possibilities of allowing ourselves the time and space to align with the green world around us, to heal, grow, and attune.

While this past wild year has presented endless opportunities for illumination and reflection for us, this Mother's Day has us thinking deeply and a little differently about mothering and the value of care. As a tight-knit, women-led team of mamas and daughters, we have always loved and honored the mothers and mother-figures in all of our lives, but over this latest season of upheaval, we have also been deeply humbled and awe-struck by the intense strength and resilient beauty manifested by the mothers in our OZMA universe.

Mothers, by their very nature, are the ultimate world-builders and, with time and hope, the visions they dream and make real for their children become the reality for us all. At a time when uncertainty has ruled, hurts needing to be soothed have multiplied, and joy must be tenderly nourished, we see the mothers stepping up. We sat down to talk with one of our favorite OZMA mamas (AND style maven, dear friend, excellent human, and total BOSS...mothers contain multitudes), Natalie Nelson—who lives and works in Vancouver with her partner and fiercely smart and luminous daughter Nalia—about the beautiful and aching contradictions of motherhood, the value of lightness, and what promises the future holds.

And to all of the OZMA daughters and mamas on Mother's Day—wherever you may be on your journey in, towards, or away from motherhood—we are sending the biggest love!

Sometimes we forget to move our precious bodies. Sometimes we forget that inside our precious bodies there is boundless capacity for freedom and joy and movement and creativity. Sometimes (especially if we've been alone or feel like we've been carrying a lot for a while...anyone else?), we forget that, not only is the freedom and movement and endless human capacity for creativity and joy inherent our precious bodies available to us, but that it is actually an essential part of our authentic selves.