The value of Myrrh and the lonely crow.

My journey over the cancer seas and beyond.

It is the time of the veil. The crossing point between worlds in this pause between the calendar date of the ancient celtic festival of Samhain and its exact astrological degree about a week later. The dank misty cold is shadowed by the rich death colour of turning leaves. The promise of summer is long away and winter has opened its door. I listened to a solitary crow in the poplar tree this morning. A gentle longing in its call, not harsh and guttural as I have often experienced these birds, but soft and quiet. It was a call rich with quality and the poise of story known only to the birds. I often wonder about this concept of quality and what deems one thing to be of quality and another not. There is a hidden aspect to this concept that I find elusive and undefinable. What makes a person, item, life or even the call of a lone crow a thing of quality? Of course we can say that the depth of character of a person, the longevity and crafting of an item, or the richness of a life well lived all speak of their quality. Yet I still find it perplexing.

The crow’s call speaks of its value. The value it places upon itself to be as it is. Its existence denotes its intrinsic value as a creature of nature. We are of nature and yet we place higher value on seeming nonsensical machinations of an outmoded economic system. Have we lost the ability to see our worth? What is it to be valuable, valued or to live a life of value? Considering this line of thought I am struck by how much change will, nay has occurred in our lifetimes. The concept of a life of value is adjusting to the new emergent constructs of the rapidly transforming world. I would like to think that a re-emergence of rites of passage may be a good way to mark out our inner value system in the years that will follow. We all need an inner compass, made of a lasting and unshakeable knowing that comes as much from our communities as it does from our inner core. Perhaps this is the most valuable thing any of us can seek to gain on the quest through life. That being an understanding of what it is to be a truly valuable human.

Interestingly I am imbibing myrrh tincture as I write and alongside the gold and frankincense in the times of ancient kings and babes it was, and still is considered a resin of highest quality. Not least because it was only found on the Arabian peninsula in times of old and thus rare and expensive. But also because it is purported to boost the spirit and the soul, and ease the nerves among a myriad of other benefits it has. Myrrh was used to make Ketoret, which was an incense blend consecrated and used in the early temples of Jerusalem. It is known as a sacred herb and one well used in ritual and prayer. For me it is a resin that I can safely use as part of my arsenal for dealing with the parasites. Rather than driving oestrogen in the body it aids in removal of excess and so is safe for use with a breast cancer story.

I have felt a reverence as I begin this journey with Myrrh. A need to take council in nature and to feel my way to knowing this new ally. It is perhaps why my thoughts have moved into the concept of quality since this resin seems to hold that place without reserve. Slow and measured it is traversing my system and meeting what needs to be met. Much like a wise elder who I am eager to listen to. So far the process has been firm and clear, the bitter taste pulling my full attention into the alchemy of its unfolding within. How rich to be able to find this treasure so easily in these times. I feel blessed.

Journeying through cancer lands and life beyond