Here’s to a week of various inboxes filled with old men typing paragraphs.
After a while, I kind of started to wonder if all of it was even genuine. The repetition was suspect, at best — an endless line of profile pictures featuring what very well could’ve been the same guy: sunburnt, pudding-faced, probably in sunglasses, most likely with a patchy beard, and almost definitely taking a selfie in a truck. The nattering of the same right-wing dog whistles and centrist mythology, like some kind of VanderMeer-esque madness mantra, didn’t do much to change this perception. Considering that all this was in response to a post that primarily revolved around getting together with trusted friends, having soup, sharing skills, and cultivating community resilience, it seemed especially absurd.
Like a string of identical, pink-eyed mice preaching to a henhouse that it’s perfectly fine that a fox is in charge now, actually, and you’re hysterical if you think that might be a problem.
“Personally, I’m doing just fine right now. That means that everything’s fine.” Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
But if there’s one thing I’ve learned well, it’s when not to waste my time. Not everyone is worth a response. Not everyone’s words are even worth consideration. That’s not always an easy lesson to internalize, however — particularly when people show up to try to rile you up on purpose. There are an awful lot of arguments for why they think they deserve your time and attention, and ohboy will they repeat them at you. Here’s why these arguments aren’t true:
“You’re being divisive!”
Please understand me when I say, from the bottom of my heart, that it doesn’t matter.
There’s a very common idea in toxic dynamics that the person who points it out is the one who’s the problem — not the person responsible for the toxic dynamic in the first place. If you didn’t point it out, then everyone else could’ve gone on quietly ignoring it and not having to admit their complicity. It shows up in families, workplaces, and social groups alike. I’ve seen it. You probably have too.
But keeping that kind of peace is not worth it.
“Division” isn’t a bad word. It will let you know who you can actually trust. You needn’t to go out of your way to please others, especially if they’ve shown up just to talk down to you about topics that they don’t understand.
“You’re just creating an echo chamber.”
There’s a difference between retreating to an echo chamber and prioritizing where your attention goes. If someone Kool-Aid-Mans in just to waste your time, you are not obligated to let them do it.
Modern media has created the false perception that all opinions need to be heard and respected equally. This is how we ended up with broadcasts featuring respected professionals alongside the heads of Facebook groups who think giving children bleach enemas will cure them of Autism. Everyone is free to express their opinion. You’re also free to not give them a platform or an iota of your time and attention. It’s okay.
By now, anyone who’s remained willfully ignorant (of actual evidence, not Qanon “think mirror” posts) isn’t going to be swayed by a reply in an email or comment section. It’s just a way to get you to waste energy that could be better spent on yourself, your family, and your actual community. It’s their choice if they want to spend their time trying to antagonize you, but you are by no means required to indulge them.
There’s a saying that, sometimes, arguing is like playing chess with a pigeon. You can do your best, but your opponent is still going to shit all over the board and strut around like they’ve won. You don’t need to include yourself in every argument that tries to rope you in. Save your energy and use it for the people who actually matter.
The election’s over. I don’t really have much to say. Other people who are far more eloquent have said everything that I possibly could.
This post from Waging Nonviolence has been very helpful to my friends and me, and I highly encourage you to read it as well. I’m not going to reiterate the excellent points that it makes, but I did want to add to the list:
1. Find people you trust, and see what skills you have between you.
Many people (women, people of color, and LGBT people) are taking this opportunity to examine and pare down their spending habits. Most major corporations and big box stores are owned by the exact demographics that will either benefit or have the luxury of remaining passive. Divest from them — literally and figuratively.
Gather a group of trusted people and see what you have to offer each other. How can your community build resilience and foster independence? What can you do to lessen your dependence on purchased goods?
Now’s also a good time to focus on reskilling.
2. Grow an edible plant.
This probably seems a bit out of left field, but it ties into number 1. Grow an edible plant. Even if you’re in an apartment. Even if all you have is a tiny windowsill under a basement window. Stick a basil in it. Shove some parsley in there. Grow something that you can eat.
Will this change the political and capitalist landscape? No, but it is a way to increase your confidence and feelings of independence. It’s one less thing you’ll have to buy in the future. It’s something you can propagate and trade with others. It’s something you can eat, at a time when the US is experiencing a resurgence of fucking scurvy because of grocery price-gouging.
It’s also worthwhile to learn to identify local edible plants, especially if you live in an urban environment. Spruce tips are a good source of vitamin C, as is purslane. These are both pretty easy to find/identify (even in a city) and beat the hell out of getting scurvy.
3. Make a big pot of something.
A lot of us don’t have much energy right now. If you have a recipe for a big pot of something that you can eat for a week (khichdi, goulash, slumgullion, stew, rice and beans, something) now’s a good time to make it. If you don’t have the energy to cook every day, it’s something you can go back to. Hell, most of these foods are ones you can make from scraps and odds and ends of things.
(Yesterday, I made a big pot of vegetable soup using a handful of lentils, some cabbage, and a broth I made from vegetable peels and end bits.)
This is another way to help boost feelings of independence and combat helplessness. You can feed yourself for days, maybe even off of things you wouldn’t have much use for otherwise — broccoli stems, onion ends, a can of beans, etc.
A big pot of something is also a good way to gather the people you trust. Invite them over. Have a potluck. Grieve, if you need to, but focus on what you can do for each other going forward.
4. Pick three causes.
It sounds like a lot, but it doesn’t have to be. Pick one local, one national, and one global cause that matter to you. If you can’t do much else, give money. If they need supplies, either give supplies or ask around and gather them from others. If they need volunteers, give your time. If you can’t do any of that, post about them and solicit help from those who can.
Get involved in mutual aid in a way that doesn’t spread you too thin. No single person can support every good cause that comes their way. It’s possible to care about them all, but time, money, and energy are finite resources. Even if you don’t feel like you’re able to make a difference, remember the story of the star-thrower.
5. Skip the bracelets and pins.
Look, safety pins and blue bracelets might make people feel good, but their stated intention was to show others that the wearer is a “safe” person.
There’s only one problem with that: “Safe person” is not a title you can give yourself. If it was, it’d defeat the purpose of having that title at all. If anything, performative gestures have the opposite effect because they cast doubt on whether the wearer is listening to the valid concerns that threatened groups have.
Anyone can wear a safety pin or a blue bracelet. It’s a purely performative gesture, and nobody asked for it. The people who would ostensibly benefit from it don’t want it. It’s also been criticized as a way for the wearer to say “#NotAllWhite/Straight/etc. People.”
It’s easy for gestures like these to be co-opted by predators, and they take agency away from the people they’re trying to help. Women, people of color, religious minorities, and LGBT people can decide for themselves when someone is a “safe person.”
Some people have raised the argument that these visible gestures would make dangerous people uncomfortable, so they’re worth wearing for that reason. The problem here is that that doesn’t work. In the past, they invited mockery. Dangerous people didn’t feel threatened, and other people didn’t feel safe. These gestures only benefit the wearer.
Anyway, that’s all that I have to say for now. Grieve, but don’t stay grieving. Assemble a trusted community. Build resilience. Support the women in your life who’ve chosen the 4B (or 5B-7B) movement. Do things that will foster independence.
Saturday, part of the Druidry group took a walk in the woods. It was a silent, contemplative walking meditation, initially meant to observe and enjoy the first frost. However, since this area hasn’t really had a legit frost yet, it was mostly about observing the changes that autumn has brought.
It was a little disheartening to have such good weather. It should be cooler this time of year. I shouldn’t be comfortable in a tank top and a thin jacket in November. I found a woolly bear caterpillar the other day, and its stripes forecast a mild winter, too. Winter precipitation is so important for avoiding droughts later in the year, and I worry about it. There was a serious drought when I lived in California, and I don’t want to go through that again.
Still, part of a walking meditation is about being present. Not to worry about next summer, but to appreciate this autumn as it is. There hasn’t been much rain, but the early evening sky is beautiful, and the bare, dark branches and golden leaves make it look like stained glass. There’s the sweet smell of decomposing leaves, and their satisfying rustle and crunch underfoot. The leaves aren’t all brown yet, so the entire trail is carpeted in gold, deep crimson, and salmon pink. Some of the leaves are multicolored, like they’ve been ice-dyed in shades of red and green.
Also, we found a bunch of little guys.
The first one, I found under a small pile of debris in a crevice of a fallen tree. (I always look in gaps and holes in trees — I found some really amazing eyelash mushrooms in one once, so now I check every time I see one.) It looked like a child’s discarded toy, covered in debris and with chipping paint. I felt bad about leaving him, so I picked him up.
Then I found a broken bottle. I didn’t have gloves or a bag for trash picking, so I initially left it where it was… but I only made it about twenty feet before I felt too badly and had to go back for it. I piled the pieces into a sort of avant-garde trash sculpture and continued on, gnome in one hand and broken bottle pile in the other.
A little further onward, we found a red woodpecker with a sheriff’s badge. His placement was intentional and whimsical, so I left him where he was to be a surprise to another trail-goer. (And kept my eyes peeled for other little guys.)
Then there was a blue elephant. Since we were walking in silence, my Handsome Assistant and I have a series of hand gestures we use when we want to point out things to each other. Mushrooms, particularly interesting sticks, small blue elephants…
And then there was another gnome.
Despite the lack of rain, there were also loads of mushrooms. Striped turkey tails, unfolding like flower petals. Round puffballs like dollops of meringue. Clusters of other fungi, nestled amid fallen leaves, ferns, and small groundcover plants.
As we said our goodbyes to each other and left, we also spotted a chubbly little squirrel absolutely gruffling some gourds. Occasionally, he’d dart away from the sidewalk as people passed, but he’d always go back and resume snacking — thoroughly engrossed, thoroughly enjoying himself, absolutely without a fuck to give.
I could say I want to be more like this squirrel, but I don’t really. I don’t think I really can stop worrying about the future. I like to think this makes me conscientious, but maybe I’m just more anxious than I need to be. Either way, I hope the snow comes soon. In the meantime, I also hope all of the squirrels get their fill of gourds.
Despite popular depictions of Samhain/Halloween, it’s not really a major holiday for me in a religious sense. It’s more or less New Year’s. There are some events here and there — workshops on ancestor veneration, dumb suppers, and such — but it’s not quite as big for me as the solstices and equinoxes are (especially Mabon).
This year, we had tentative plans to have dinner and watch movies with friends, but that fell through. Instead, it was handing out candy to trick-or-treaters, doing small, homey things, and holding a spirit feast.
Dumb suppers are a traditional way to celebrate Samhain and involve sharing a meal in silence with the ancestors. Spirit feasts are a bit different — they’re not necessarily silent, and there are a lot more invitations to go around.
Dumb suppers tap into a kind of sacred silence that’s part mourning, part veneration, part listening and being receptive. The intention is to pay attention to the spirits of the ancestors, rather than the noise of living beings. Sometimes, people use this as a time for divination by listening for the voices of the dead.
When I conduct a spirit feast, on the other hand, it’s more like a party. Deities, spirits of nature, spirits to whom I may owe a debt, and spirits of ancestors (blood-related or otherwise) are all invited. I may offer food (this year, for example was fresh-baked biscuits with peach honey butter). I usually also offer incense, candles, liquor, tea, flowers, honey, and/or perfume. I play music (usually the lyre or dulcimer guitar). I read poetry. I tell stories or jokes. I put new artwork on my altar.
The atmosphere and focus are a bit different. It’s less about communing with the dead, and more about offering the best of what I have to all of the people, animals, plants, elements, places, and gods that have made me who I am.
I do this year-round, but Samhain makes it a bit more special. Plus, it’s easier for everyone to attend.
Getting Ready for the Winter Months
This year, I’m honestly looking forward to winter. I have a lot of small-scale stuff to do to prepare for spring and summer, and I’m excited to get to it. I have art to make, wood to prepare for wands, trees to prune, and areas of the garden to set up for vegetable and herb beds. Honestly, I’m almost more eager to do that than I am to see the payoff later on.
I’ve built up a pretty good stock of art, wands, and jewelry. I’m starting to study incense making and botanical perfumery. I’m super stoked to find actual markets to vend at next year, so I can expand beyond just selling things online. It’s a little scary, but even more exciting.
No matter whether you celebrate Samhain or not, here’s hoping all of you have had a peaceful, happy October 31st and are looking forward to the months ahead!
These chocolate chip cardamom cookies are delicious, easy to make, and suit a number of dietary restrictions. You can even make them gluten-free if you substitute your favorite 1:1 GF flour for the einkorn. The cardamom gives them a unique flavor that pairs beautifully with the chocolate (and has some other unique properties, if you’re into that).
Chocolate Chip Cardamom Cookie Ingredients
Drys
2 cups of einkorn flour (I usually use 1 1/2 cups of white einkorn, and 1/2 cups of whole grain einkorn)
1/2 t baking powder
1/2 t baking soda
3/4 t salt
1 t cardamom
1/2 to 3/4 cup of chocolate chips (honestly, I just throw in handfuls until my soul says it’s good)
Wets
1/4 to 1/3 cup sugar (unbleached, raw sugar if you’re vegan)
1/2 cup maple syrup
1/2 cup avocado oil
2 T chia seeds
1 t vanilla extract
Instructions
Preheat oven to 375° Fahrenheit.
Start by combining your wet ingredients. Just put ’em all in a bowl and give them a good stir, then set them aside to thicken a bit. (For our purposes, chia seeds serve as a wet ingredient — they’re our egg substitute. Some people make a “chia egg” by soaking the seeds in water first, but I find that this makes the chia flavor a bit more forward. I’ve found that hydrating them in the maple syrup, sugar, vanilla, and avocado oil avoids this.)
Sift together your dry ingredients, except for the chocolate chips. Add those after sifting.
Add the wets to the drys, and mix until they form a dough. Einkorn doesn’t absorb as much moisture as conventional wheat flours do, so the dough is likely to be a bit looser or wetter than you may be used to. That’s fine, but, if it’s so loose that it won’t even hold together in spoonfuls, add some more flour.
Place the dough by rounded spoonfuls on a greased cookie sheet. Bake for 12-15 minutes at 375°. (I make big spoonfuls, so I usually get about 15 cookies from this recipe.)
Allow to cool, then enjoy!
I love these chocolate chip cardamom cookies with milk (hemp or Ripple), but they’re also really good with a warm cup of spice tea. Sometimes, I’ll even eat one or two for breakfast — chia seeds are good for you, and the flour and maple syrup means these’re basically pancakes, right?
My Handsome Assistant, some friends, and I try to go to at least one Renaissance Faire every year — usually the MD or PA Ren Faire. If you’re not familiar with them (they seem to mostly be an American thing), Ren Faires are basically big mostly-outdoor markets, made to look like a Tudor era village. There’s food, entertainment, and people often like to wear loosely Renaissance or fantasy-inspired costumes to go. They’re a lot of fun, and I’ve found some very cool stuff (and people!) at them. This year, we went to the PA Renaissance Faire in Manheim, PA, at Mount Hope Estate.
I don’t really do a lot of shopping during the rest of the year — I might go to a thrift shop if I have a specific item of clothing or houseware that I’m looking for, but otherwise I’m all about make, make do, and mend — so I save up to get to go a little wild at Ren Faires and Pagan Pride Day. We usually have a list of things we’re looking for specifically. For my Handsome Assistant, this is usually belts, bags, or additions to his costume. For me, this year I was looking for handmade instruments and fountain pens.
(We also tend to buy a lot of tea anytime we take a vacation or day trip. I joke that it’s how I time things. When we run out of tea, it’s time to get out of the house.)
Stuff
First, shopping at the PA Ren Faire. Like I mentioned above, we bought some tea because we always do. I did also get a very nice cherry wood fountain pen from Denyan Designs (which is currently loaded with Diamine Writer’s Blood).
My Handsome Assistant got a lovely cloak from Up Your Kilt/As You Like It (“Because if it’s not as you like it, it has no business being up your kilt!”). It’s a very nice, versatile olive color, thick and warm, and long enough to fold and wear in a lot of different ways. He also got some new bracers to replace his old, plasticky costume set.
The World’s Best Hat
“It probably fits you fine! Stop flirting with it and just get the hat.”
I like hats. I started liking hats when I first shavedmy head and realized that my choices were a) start wearing a lot more hats and bandanas, or b) rub sunscreen into my head every day. Even now that it’s only half-shaved, I’m still very careful to keep the sun off of my head. (Melanoma is not invited to my pizza party.)
I went to the PA Ren Faire wearing a sun hat already, like I usually do — it goes with my costume, and helps keep my decidedly not period-correct hair from detracting too much from the “look.”
Then I saw the hat. A black bowler. Satin braid around the rim, with a fringe of tiny teal crystals all around. A wide teal ribbon as a band, festooned with peacock feathers. Teal tulle and a purple ribbon trailing from the back. All of my favorite colors. It was gorgeous, and also looked to be entirely too small. Still, I kept going back to it. I didn’t want to try it on in the shop, because some shops are touchy about that. I took it down from the display, admired it, and put it back. I took it down again, took off my sun hat, and compared the two side by side. Finally, my Handsome Assistant just threw his hands up. Just get the hat.
So, I did. It fit like it was made for me. It didn’t quite go with my costume, but it was safely ensconced in a bag and I was already planning all of the outfits I’d wear it with. (Like this really cool jacket I got when we went to New Hope.)
And Then I Wore the Hat
We ducked into Oh, Jessa!, a bright, showy clothing shop. I wasn’t really looking for another costume piece, but I’m a sucker for bright colors and shiny things as much as any toddler or corvid.
(Sometimes, I take pictures of interesting color combinations so I can play around with them while painting.)
Then I checked the tag — XS. I’m a fine weight for my size, with a decent amount of muscle, but I don’t know of any reality in which I can make myself occupy an extra small. Still, it looked like it might fit, and it did lace up…
“If you’re about a size 4 or 5, it’ll probably fit,” one of the very nice shopkeepers told me. I had my doubts, and it was more than I wanted to spend on a piece I hadn’t planned for, but just trying it on wouldn’t hurt, right?
Go figure, it was incredibly comfortable. The colors were the perfect jewel tones that suit my complexion (aggressively beige, very neutral, greenish in undertone, with a tendency to tan). It provided the perfect amount of support, even loosely laced in a hurry over a very voluminous chemise.
I stepped out and asked my Handsome Assistant to hand me the hat. It was a perfect match — down to the peacock feathers on the brim and the decidedly peacock-like tail of the ruffled bottom of the vest. This is going to sound very “and then everyone clapped,” but three people exclaimed about how good it all looked together. I took the tag from the vest, handed it to the person at the register, and left wearing it and the world’s best hat.
When we got outside, my Handsome Assistant wanted to take some pictures. I was awkwardly posing (I hate pictures), when a tiny, adorable child ran up to me and looked up, eyes enormous.
“I like your costume!”
“Thank you!”
“Do you want a-” I couldn’t make out the last bit.
“Sure!” I was already sold. I probably would’ve followed this kid into battle.
They handed me something and quickly ran away, back to their parents. I looked down at my hand, and you guys.
It was a tiny orange axolotl. I think my heart melted and ran out of my body.
(For real, kids don’t mess around and have a very well-deserved reputation for having no filter. A sincere compliment from a tiny child is worth more to me than every compliment I’ve ever received from an adult.)
I did also get several other compliments on the hat that day, which was a pretty big boost to my confidence and overall mood. Assuming that sky burials aren’t legal by the time I bite the grass, I am going to be buried in this hat.
Food
It’s not easy to avoid eggs, dairy, or meat at places/events like this, because food is usually done for flavor and convenience and the majority of Americans don’t really have an issue with any of those dietary components. Just in case, I stashed some Feel bars in my belt bag before we left.
(I also keep a 3″ knife, waterproof matches, a multitool, bug spray, a tick spoon, four kinds of lip balm, a can of Emergency Seltzer, a fountain pen, and two kinds of suncreen in my regular, every day backpack. I am nothing if not extremely prepared, always.)
If you’re not like me, there’re a lot more options. Giant smoked turkey legs, barbecue, sausage, pizza, you name it.
The only caveat is that pretty much all of the food is cash-only (or uses “Coin of the Realm,” tokens you can get near the entrance). Credit card fees can be pretty brutal for businesses that primarily do a large volume of small transactions — picture being charged $1 processing fee on one $100 transaction, versus $1 on each of 20 $5 transactions. To circumvent this, food vendors don’t take credit or debit cards. It can be slightly annoying if you aren’t expecting it but isn’t a big deal if you come prepared. Also, water is expensive, it can get hot, and it’s important to stay hydrated when you’re walking so much, so we brought our own glass water bottles to refill them at fountains/sinks as needed.
Fun
So, the PA Ren Faire has parades, jousting, and a variety of comedy shows, plays, demonstrations, and musicians.
We passed by a troll sitting under a bit of a ruined bridge, singing loudly. There were two boxes in front of him: one labeled “keep playing,” and the other labeled “hush money.” At that point, my Handsome Assistant’s curiosity was piqued and he made up his mind that we were going to watch the troll show.
As it turns out, Hob the Troll was delightful. It’s an all-ages show, so there’s nothing too racy, but all of the songs had a great balance of “stuff kids will get and laugh at” and “stuff only adults will get and laugh at.” My favorites were the song about Fr​ö​š​t​ï​ë the Snowman, the Dread Ship Montessori, and a “children’s drinking song” about that juvenile rite of passage: making Potions.
(Side note, when my younger sibling was four or so, he was complaining of a bad stomachache out of nowhere. A couple of hours later, he produced a two-liter soda bottle filled with a mixture of tap water, Pert Plus 2-in-1 shampoo, and the insides of a yellow highlighter and loudly warned, “Nobody drink this.”)
Also! We met a beautiful African pied crow named Goose. Like the pied crow at Pagan Pride Day, Goose accepted donations. What’s more, he’d take the donation from you, hop onto a cash box, and deposit it inside. And let me tell you, this boy was so freaking happy and excitedto do his tiny job!
We walked up to the area where he accepted donations, and he was full on hopping all along his perch, onto the cash box, off of the cash box, doing little spins, bobbing his head, all just super stoked to get to do his thing, because doing his thing means treats and praise.
Goose, the African pied crow, being very excited to get to deposit donations.
Also there were unicorns.
The PA Ren Faire was a fun, albeit very tiring day. I wish we’d been able to get to more than one Faire this year, but it seems like everywhere sold out pretty quickly. Fortunately, I’m probably going to get plenty of wear out of The Hat long before next year’s Faire season rolls around!
Do you ever experience the dreaded “henna headache?”
In my case, I switched to botanical hair color from synthetic hair color because I wanted something that’d cause less irritation, have fewer fumes, and have a lower risk of sensitization. Imagine my devastation when I realized that I experienced awful migraines from what was supposed to be “safe, natural” hair color. Online research wasn’t much help in the matter, either — some people reported consistently getting headaches from using henna, but there didn’t seem to be a solid reason people could really point a finger at.
After years of experience and experimentation with a variety of dye plants, I’ve managed to narrow henna headaches down to a few common triggers. If any of these seem to match with your experience, there are ways to mitigate your discomfort and still end up with beautiful hair.
1. It may not really be henna.
Not all henna is henna. A fair amount of the henna creams and dyes on the market are what’s called compound henna, which may be henna (Lawsonia inermis) based, but also contain other botanical dyes, metallic salts, and even synthetic colorants. Compound henna is why so many hair colorists don’t want to work on hair that’s been treated with henna — they have no way of knowing if you’ve used henna, or “henna.” The metallic salts in compound henna can react violently with some of the chemicals used in salon coloring. Some of the other components of compound henna can also cause headaches, just like synthetic colorants may.
If you’re using a henna dye that’s any color other than reddish orange, you may be using compound henna.
2. It may be natural, but it might not just be henna.
Even if a product isn’t compound henna, it may not be pure Lawsonia inermis. In my case, I was using a combination of pure powdered henna, and pure powdered indigo. This gave me a very nice, deep brown color. Seems safe and natural, right?
A lot of things are natural, like stonefish, nightshade berries, and manchineel fruit.
Indigo doesn’t start out looking the way one might assume. It’s not actually blue, for one — blue is actually the least common color in nature. It starts as a colorless precursor, indican. When this is soaked in water, it gets hydrolyzed and produces indoxyl. After the indoxyl ferments for several hours, it yields leucoindigo. When leucoindigo oxidizes, it becomes the blue indigo we’re all familiar with. Indigofera tinctoria and other members of the Indigofera genus are complex, fascinating plants with a long history of use in dyes, paints, and even medicine.
However, they also carry the potential for toxicity. If you’re using a mixture of henna and indigo powder under the assumption that it’s safe because it’s all-natural, but you’re still experiencing a henna headache every time you use it, indigo may be the culprit. In my specific case, switching from henna + indigo to just henna solved my problem entirely.
Does this mean you can’t wear your favorite dark-dyed jeans? Not at all. Just maybe avoid eating or drinking indigo or leaving it on your skin and hair for hours at a time. If you regularly work with or use indigo and find that you have a lot of otherwise-unexplained headaches, maybe try reducing your contact with it and see if it makes a difference.
3. It could be the heat.
Have you ever gotten a headache from going quickly from one temperature to another? You might notice it on a hot summer’s day, when going from the sunny outdoors to a chilly, air-conditioned building, or even in the depths of winter when you go from the heat to the bitter cold. Kicks my butt every time.
One headache remedy even involves using temperatures to normalize blood flow in your brain, by keeping your feet warm and your head cool.
If you apply henna paste, wrap it up, and keep your head warm while the color develops, you may inadvertently be exposing yourself to a headache trigger. Try keeping your feet warm as well, and maybe put a cool compress on your forehead.
4. It could be the weight.
Henna paste is pretty thick. If you have a lot of hair to color, covering every inch of it in henna paste can add a lot of weight to your poor head and neck. This extra weight can put more strain on your neck, leading to tension headaches. Unfortunately, I don’t have a good solution for you here — if at all possible, wrap your hair up in a way that’s evenly balanced, at least, to make it a bit easier to deal with. Remain sitting with your head resting comfortably on something for as long as you can. A gentle massage and a cold compress can help deal with inflammation in your neck
5. It could be the tugging.
Henna paste dries out very easily. It’s why it needs to be kept wrapped up — it takes a long time for the color to develop well, and, if you leave it exposed to the air, the paste will dry out long before it has a chance to be effective. If your hair isn’t well wrapped up, the paste may start to dry and create a pulling sensation on your hair and scalp.
If you’ve ever worn a tight ponytail or tight set of braids and ended up with a sore, tender scalp or a headache by the end of the day, you know how much that pulling feeling can suck. In this case, the solution is pretty simple: Make sure your henna pasted hair is kept well covered and not allowed to dry out. (I use a waterproof shower cap.)
6. It could be tightness.
Say you’re using pure henna. You have short hair, so it’s not too much weight. You have it wrapped up well, but not too much, so it stays moist without making your head too hot. What else could it be?
Sometimes, it might be the way your hair’s wrapped up. If you use a cap that’s too tight, or wrap your hair in plastic too snugly, the pressure can cause some soreness and headaches. Experiment with different materials and wrapping techniques until you find one that’s both effective and comfortable for you.
7. Henna may just not agree with you.
Henna is a very safe ingredient. Pretty much all of the results that come up for “henna toxicity” deal with compound hennas — like black henna containing lead and PPD. Safety aside, allergies and sensitivities can happen to anyone, with pretty much anything.
If you’ve gone through the list and eliminated all of the other factors, it may just be that Lawsoniainermis doesn’t agree with you. You can try other botanical-based colorants, or consult with a professional colorist to find a gentle synthetic dye or a way to revert to your natural color.
It’s easy to assume that natural products are always safer and better than their synthetic alternatives, but that’s not always true. Just because a substance is (or claims to be) natural doesn’t mean that it doesn’t have the potential for harm. If you get a henna headache every time you color your hair, there may be a variety of root causes stemming from specific compounds within the dye, or even the coloring technique itself.
This past Saturday was Pagan Pride at the Unitarian Universalist Congregation of Frederick. If you’ve never been, I highly recommend it — there’s live music, workshops on a variety of subjects, food, and tons of vendors of all kinds of cool stuff!
(I, personally, came away with a mug, some artwork, a mushroom-shaped incense holder, a pin, a set of earrings, dried organic lavender, magnesium butter, a really cool jar shaped like a skull, a hand-dyed and block printed bandana, and a display of a mossy log set with three corked test tubes. The stump in the front yard has been putting out a ton of interesting mushrooms lately, and I’ve been dehydrating what I can identify. I’m looking forward to displaying them once they’re done!)
This year, I decided to skip the workshops in favor of hanging out with friends (actually, many of the friends that I just saw at the Mabon celebration), listening to music, and eating delicious sorbet. The Street Cow‘s Cowabunga sorbet pop is non-dairy, real fruit puree, and awesome.
Also, I met some very handsome lads.
This is Spectre.
Spectre is fine, it was just toasty out and he is a young boy who is very excited to see new things.
He was part of Avian Encounters, a group of falconers who provide people with the chance to learn about and see raptors close up. These are all trained birds, kept by licensed professionals who know how to properly feed, care for, and mentally engage them. Getting to see birds like this up close is a rare and fascinating experience.
They also had a little screech owl, an American kestrel…
And (oh, be still my heart) a gorgeous African pied crow.
“May I take a picture of him?” I asked, barely able to contain my excitement.
“Sure! If you make a donation, you can also hold him and take a picture.”
!!!!
Needless to say, I did. He sat still for a short video (the picture to the right is a still), before hopping back to his handler. The whole time, I gushed to him (like a starstruck dork) about how pretty he is.
Human celebrities are all well and good (I saw one of my favorite musicians not long ago and managed to be surprisingly normal about it). A really cool bird or bug, though? I will absolutely lose my mind.
Pagan Pride is delightful every year, but this year was particularly special. I really hope Avian Encounters is there next year, too — the birds are all beautiful, alert, and well cared-for, and it’s a great opportunity to learn more about them and get some close-up reference photos for paintings.
Wednesday night, my Handsome Assistant and I went to go see Faun at Baltimore Soundstage. (I know — I mostly listen to folk metal, but I also enjoy a fair bit of regular Pagan folk, too. My Assistant is predominately into punk, but still lets me drag him along.)
By the time we left, I was sweaty and exhausted. We stopped at a Wawa on the way home, where I proceeded to eat half a tube of Pringles for dinner. And the show was 1000% worth it.
For real. I know live music sounds completely different from studio recordings. Studio recording flattens things out (especially with the loudness wars), but I don’t think I’ve ever heard quite as dramatic a difference between a band’s studio recordings and their live performances as I did with Faun. Their melodies have a depth and complexity that I couldn’t really appreciate before, and oh man did it make for a fantastic show.
Even my Handsome Assistant, for whom Faun would not be his first choice, admitted that it was probably the best live show he’d heard.
Remember a few days ago, when I wrote about the chants workshop at the Mabon camping trip? Specifically, how the resonance of the chants themselves had profound impacts on the chanters? It was like that. Skin-tingling, heart-pumping, literally entrancing music.
The between song banter was also funny and clever. Oliver s. Tyr gave cultural and historical context for songs, interspersed with jokes and bits of mythology.
Singer Laura Fella didn’t appear on this tour. (She very recently had a baby, so congratulations to her and her family!) This meant that they weren’t able to perform some of their songs that rely on having both her andAdaya, so they played a few of their older songs instead.
The show closed with Hymn to Pan, which seemed like the perfect ending — I used to have it on a sleep/relaxation playlist, and I love listening to it to unwind. It was also beautiful to hear the entire venue sing the chorus. Literally the best choice of encore.
This was the first opportunity I’ve had to see Faun live, and I’m so happy I did. It was an incredible show. Even though getting there involved an hour’s drive each way after a long workday, both my Handsome Assistant and I left feeling happy and energized.
Some kind souls on Spotify have also made playlists of Faun’s 2024 setlist. While they aren’t completely accurate to what the band played Wednesday night, they’re still very good listening and a wonderful introduction to Faun’s work.
This past weekend was the Mabon camping trip! My Handsome Assistant and I are part of a local Druidry group, and that group teams up with another Pagan group to go have a fantastic time in the woods.
There’s food (lots of food), singing, stories, rituals, and catching up with friends, all set in a beautiful forest. Last year, things got a bit cold and damp. This year, the weather was better, and my Assistant and I knew what to expect. We were more thoroughly prepared (air mattress, extra blankets and sleeping bags, extra dishes, a solar powered fan), so it made for a much more comfortable trip.
The rain also stayed away just long enough for the weekend’s rituals, which was very important.
Fortunately, there was just enough rain to make the mosses and lichens really pop.
Earlier, during the Midsummer goods and gear swap, a couple of us floated the idea of having a masquerade party. It wasn’t a serious plan at the time — mainly a “this would be really cool” kind of thing. Later, during a planning Zoom call, I mentioned that some of us thought a masquerade would be really neat. Maybe for Samhain?
One of the group’s Stewards knew of a ritual that involved masking — the Council of All Beings. Another person found chants that suited the occasion. Another wrote the transitions and spoken parts of the ritual structure. By the end, it was a beautiful, adaptable, and powerfully creative work.
Some people came to the trip prepared, already knowing which being they’d embody, having a mask or costume, and knowing exactly what they wanted to say. Others took time in the woods or labyrinth, waiting to see what reached out to them and asked to be represented. I’d gotten some inspiration a while before Mabon, so I was all set to go.
The ritual itself was wonderful. The masks were gorgeous, and seeing what kind of entities inspired/spoke through people was fascinating. Some represented a specific organism — like the critically endangered regent honeyeater. Others represented a genus or type of being, like moths, small snakes, or coral. Others represented something broader, like smoke or the sun. Some were natural features, like the bedrock or an underground spring. There were representations from a variety of cultures and cosmologies, all brought together to express themselves through us. I loved it.
(I was the necrobiome, aka all of the little guys that dispose of trash and dead things. I had some trouble figuring out how to express “a tiny ecosystem of various bacteria, fungi, insects, and scavengers” through a mask, so I ended up settling on a skeletal deer mask instead. The presence of decomposition bacteria and fungi was somewhat implied.)
My Handsome Assistant took some photos of me all dressed up. I used them for some little analog horror-style photo manips, and I’ll be honest… this one really makes me want to go ominously photobomb strangers.
We also had an icebreaking and learning exercise called Birds of a Feather, where we wore small tags labeled with subjects we wanted to talk about — either things we found interesting and were well versed in already, or stuff we wanted to learn. It sparked a lot of very interesting conversations!
There was also a chants workshop, where a group of us got together to try various chanting techniques and see how they felt both through our own voices and hearing them in a group. (Some of the non-verbal chants, I thought, felt especially powerful. I love exploring and working with different sonic frequencies, so feeling and participating in chants that ran the gamut from “results in full-body tingles” to “surprisingly like the drone of a titanic beehive” was particularly fascinating.)
One group member also gave a talk about spiritual experiences at various megaliths in Ireland. Both my Assistant and I found it really interesting — enough to where he’s sincerely trying to figure out how to create some form of mobile hyperbaric compression chamber so I can get on a plane without Problems.
And then there was food. (So much food.) Every meal was a potluck, and there was something for everyone. Vegan, vegetarian, carnivore, gluten-free, nut-free. There was fresh fruit, Koren barbecue ribs, vegan fennel and garlic sausages, fresh bread, pudding made from foraged pawpaws, homebrewed peach mead, vegetable soup made from home-grown vegetables, curried chickpea salad, and a ton of other things I’m probably forgetting. I ate like a combination of a Redwall character and some kind of Roman emperor all weekend, and it was delightful. (My Handsome Assistant jokes that he puts on five pounds over Mabon, then spends the rest of the year losing it.)
I also stayed up way too late every night, mostly sitting around the fire hearing/telling stories, talking about things, and having the occasional smoke. This came back to bite me on Saturday, when I set an alarm to wake up, realized I had a terrible headache, and decided to sleep in. This would have meant that I’d miss the Equinox ritual Saturday morning, fortunately my Assistant and I had accidentally set up our tent right next to the ritual area. I heard the drums going, bolted upright, wrapped myself in a blanket, and poked my head through the tent flap to watch. It worked out okay until the calling of the quarters got to the South, which meant that everyone turned to face me, who was currently sitting due south and staring out of my tent like some kind of small cryptid. (I kind of slowly retreated behind my tent flap again until that part was over, Homer-Simpson-backing-into-a-bush style.)
So, while I am glad to be home again, I’m sad Mabon’s over. I’ll see (almost) everyone soon, but man do I miss that vibe.
Marble Crow 