Newsletter 6: Returning To Innate Rhythms
I’m writing this with a warm drink beside me and snow still melting from my boots by the door. It feels tender to admit this, but lately I’ve been noticing a subtle sense of feeling disconnected… from myself, from God, from creation energy, from that current of aliveness that usually runs clearly through me. Side note, someone recently said G.O.D. is simply the Gift Of Divinity within each of us, and I resonate with that deeply.
As a woman who has deconstructed and reconstructed her relationship with God over the years, this feeling isn’t unfamiliar. When I say “disconnected,” I don’t mean I believe that God has gone anywhere. It feels more like I’ve drifted from the essence of life itself. Or like so many layers have been placed over my heart that I can't feel this current clearly. And when I look closer, it’s usually my nervous system quietly whispering, “Hi love, we’ve hit capacity.”
And perhaps that makes sense.
There is so much being revealed in the collective right now. So much grief, corruption, violence, unraveling. So many horrors coming to light. It feels as if everything raw is suddenly visible. Even if we are not directly touched by each event, our bodies still register it. Our nervous systems still absorb the frequency of it.
I don’t believe the answer is to turn away completely, though I have checked out of socials for the foreseeable future. I also don’t believe we are meant to consume suffering endlessly without tending to ourselves in equal measure.
If anything, I believe this moment asks us to love more intentionally.
To tend our own nervous systems
To check in on the people we love
To cook a meal for someone
To hold a hand a little longer
To rest when our body asks
To remember that we cannot be steady ground for others if we are constantly flooded.
So if you’re reading this, grab something warm and settle in. We’re talking about cycles and rhythms today, and what it means to return to them.
Last week I found myself down by the river that flows just behind my house. Lady Animas, the one who holds me quite often. I visit her a few times a week. Rivers and I have always gotten along quite well. I noticed a small constellation of rocks arranged as though they had been placed there just for me, a perfect place to rest. I laid down my sheepskin and tucked myself in.
The late afternoon sun poured over my face. A stone curved around my shoulder perfectly. I breathed deep into my belly and felt my system slowly orienting to the rhythm around me. The land clearly noticed me, and I felt in that moment that to be received by the earth in this way steadies something deep within my being. A feeling I am never truly lost from, only distant at times.
I reached down to feel the river. Instead of pulling away from the cold, I stayed. I felt my fingers constrict, blood retreating from the tips toward my heart.
Self-preservation.
The body’s wisdom as old as time.
A gathering and a drawing inward.
This moment mirrored what I’ve been moving through internally.
As women, we carry four seasons within us each month.. inner spring, summer, autumn, winter. I’ve been placed firmly in autumn lately. Here is a simple overview as most of us were not taught about this.
Inner spring, the follicular phase: arrives with rising estrogen, creativity, curiosity, and new ideas emerging like seedlings.
Inner summer, ovulation: arrives with a peak in estrogen, the release of an egg. Confidence, communication, and outward expression thrive here.
Inner autumn, the luteal phase: or “brutal” phase as some like to call it. Progesterone rises, sensitivity heightens, discernment sharpens. Leaves begin to fall within us. Boundaries surface. The body gently, or sometimes with much force, asks us to pull inward.
And inner winter, the bleed, menstruation, the sacred shedding: Hormones bottom out. Here the womb has the opportunity to release grief, old and stagnant energy, ancestral stories, and the lining of the womb itself.
For years I tried to bloom all month long. I wanted consistent energy, consistent output, consistent inspiration. But the body does not operate by 9-5 work schedules, quarterly business models, or social media algorithms. She follows the moon.
This morning I was staring at a long list of everything I thought I “should” accomplish for From Earth and Eden. I could feel the fear creeping in, that I’m losing momentum because I’ve stepped back from social media, that I’m not restocking in big enough batches, that people will forget I’m here while I’m wintering.
It’s interesting to witness how quickly fear dresses itself up as urgency, especially in a world that already feels unstable.
This is not the place I want to create from. So instead of forcing it, I packed hibiscus tea, a snack, and my snowshoes and headed into a canyon with my dog Luna. The snow was deep as we wandered through a a riverbed. Each step became steep and effortful as we made our way up one of the mountains. My lungs were tired, legs sore, but with every step upward, I felt myself descending deeper into my body.
Aspen, pine, spruce, and willow felt like a cathedral. The crunch of snow beneath my feet filled the winter silence.
When the trail disappeared into untouched white, I kept climbing until my inner landscape said, here. Standing there, breath heavy, heart beating in rhythm, something shifted.
I was flooded with a sense of feeling deeply connected to God. Not because I was closer to the sky, but because every step up the mountain had been a deeper descent into my own body and my own heart, where I believe God resides within each of us.
That was the missing piece.
I believe it is never the outward ascent that restores our connection. It is the willingness to drop into the body, to feel, to breathe, to let the nervous system soften enough to remember the truth.
This moment was tender beyond belief, to remember that creation energy, or zest for life if you will, has never left me, even if I’m in a slumpy dump. It is always there, waiting for me to return home.
This tenderness I’ve been in is not failure. It is my inner autumn asking to be honored. My nervous system is recalibrating. Roots growing deeper so that what comes next has somewhere sturdy to land.
So for now, I am still wintering, as the earth is too.
I’m still tending to our shop in ways that feel good. I have restocked our Skin Healing Body Butter and Magnesium Butter as of today. These ones always go quickly, and I only have equipment to produce very small batches at the moment. I love knowing they are part of your routines.
I recently bottled a Heart Basin Lymphatic Serum, crafted from wild plants gathered during my wanderings this past summer and fall. It feels like a love letter to the basin that holds our heart.
Heart Basin Lymphatic Serum — From Earth and Eden
There are also a few yoni steam blends available. Steaming during the luteal and follicular phases has been a wise women’s tradition for thousands of years. Warming the womb, supporting fertility and hormonal balance, and tending to emotional wounds that live there. Steaming feels like a red tent of my own making, even if it’s just thirty quiet minutes in my room with a pot of herbs and a skirt. These blends come with a detailed card explaining everything you need to know, even if this practice is brand new to you. Reach out if you’re curious.
Rose has returned to my days again, as she so often does. She softens us without collapsing, cools excess heat in the body, soothes a frayed nervous system, and teaches us how to open and protect at the same time.
Lately I’ve been making a bright winter smoothie:
A handful of organic rose petals
A spoonful of hibiscus powder
Frozen cherries
Coconut milk
Raw honey
When I renamed my business From Earth and Eden, I spoke about the merging of body and spirit. Lately that feels truer than ever. We are both soil and something eternal. We will not bloom all year long. We were never meant to.
If you are in a season of feeling disconnected… from God, from inspiration, from yourself, may you trust that it is often simply an invitation to descend deeper. I bless you on your way.
And in a time where so much is unraveling in the world around us,
May we be extra gentle with ourselves and the ones we love
May we tend our homes like small sanctuaries
May we rest when we need to
May we nourish our bodies well
May we remember that steadiness is a radical act
Place your hands on the earth if you can. Or on your own heart. Stay there long enough to feel the pulse return.
Thank you, truly for being here. Your presence allows me to run this apothecary in a way that honors both the plants I work with and my cyclical body.
I would always love to hear from you.
With love and blessings,
Mary
From Earth and Eden
PS. Something exciting that happened this week, my friend and a beloved woman that’s supported me over the years with energy and womb healing, recently opened a studio is pleasant grove Utah. She has some beautiful offerings here and some of the items from our apothecary are available to purchase there <3
Check it out! Instagram: @rosehealingco
