root / work

“They called her a witch because she could heal herself”

is how the saying goes. With that in mind, I once said “A witch is only as good as her ability to heal herself” to a sniffling sister while bringing her a steaming cup of antibiotic tea. Boil a cup of water with some chopped ginger, add apple cider vinegar, honey, fresh squeezed lemon, turmeric, cayenne pepper. Surprisingly sweet and tart from the lemon and honey. The spice from the pepper drowns out the vinegar and turmeric without taking away the apple. It tastes like a lot of things at once, earthy, spice, sweet, citrus. If the mucus is heavy, add garlic with the ginger.

On the 29th of october, I popped my calf muscle from jumping up too fast to answer the door. Limping hard for days but healing quickly, I slept a lot and was frustrated by my lack of mobility. I couldn’t put any weight on the ball of my foot for two weeks. and I walk A LOT. I know the quickest route to get anywhere downtown. Hopping along, I did things to ease the pain like massage it and put ice on it but only so much could be done to speed up the healing process. I ate a lot of plant protein and things with vitamin C, after reading that is how the body produces collagen. I left a lot of things on the floor. Everything felt like an excruciating task. Time felt like it stood still for me while rushing fast for everyone else. After all, it was a torn muscle and muscles don’t grow back overnight, not as easy as blasting cold symptoms out your system with a hot mug of roots and spices.

The root chakra deals with survival, identity, the fight or flight mechanism, reproductive organs, lower half of the body. It is located at the base of the pelvis, its color is red. If the sacral chakra was Mars, the root would be the Sun. The root chakra contains the source of the kundalini energy that travels upwards. It develops from birth to the age of one. The first of the seven major chakras in the body, it sits at the bottom of the spine and top of the upper body: the very center of the human anatomy. The foundation for the second floor and the roof for the basement, where we carry most of our weight and get rid of waste.


I operate from the belief that all things physical stem from nonmaterial thought and intention, and that there is no such thing as coincidence. The small thing explains the larger thing. Physical illness or injury is spiritual first, since the body is the temporary home for your soul. So depending on the body part, system, or condition, there is some symbolic meaning or corresponding significance relating to your life journey that your body is forcing you to pay attention to. You are where and how you need to be, in whatever condition you are in, and it is your sole responsibility to manage the physical health and wellbeing of your vehicle. The big picture is made up of smaller versions of itself repeating unto infinity. The past and future is made of millions of nows.

So somewhere in this time-space-continuum despite my time-sensitive demands, my leg popped. Universe wanted me to sit the fuck down. At first I was in denial about it and still moving and grooving, limping and hopping through my errands. Rikki told me I need to take a bath so I did, threw in a bunch of drops of essential oils, a bundle of dried chamomile, a pinch of activated charcoal, pink himalayan salt. Can’t believe I don’t have any epsom salt. Anyway, it relaxed my muscles to the point the pressure I had been putting on it caught up to me and I couldn’t walk the next day or two.

With the right intention and level of surrender, medicine is everywhere. Water, heat, time. The time it takes to heat water. Relaxation. Touch. Rest. These are the things that some injuries require, not constant picking or stitches or casts or crutches. Also I could have used a crutch, but I didn’t want to go to the hospital.

The root chakra governs the lower half of the body. So a leg injury would most affect and be affected by the root chakra, root chakra work is what would be required to heal the leg. If my calf muscle didn’t strain, I would not have had the time to slow down, sit down, scrub off the dead skin and get right within before upscaling, turning my attention to my surroundings and not my innermost being.


At the same time I was was trying to tend to business while limping hard, I ran into a guy I kicked it and hit it off with before, at a friends place. Enthusiastic about what I was working on, excited to have crossed paths with him, disregarding the shooting pain in my right leg, we exchanged numbers. I hopped along.

The root chakra rules the reproductive organs. He seems to be attracted to me for physical and nonphysical reasons. He can tell I’m smart and likes how I think. He pays attention to what I say I want. I like him, and I like being liked by him, I want to know him better while allowing him to do the same.

First impression made him like how I think, but the more we talked, what became clear was what I think about. I surprised myself with how much I talked about past loves, failed relationships, life-altering traumas. Not all of them, not in great length or detail, but enough to portray myself fraught with issues and baggage. Blame it on Venus retrograde or being a Taurus, I sure know how to hold onto things.

For so long I have felt defined by my capacity to love, I didn’t realize how much it made me emotionally and psychologically dependent on the memories of those who significantly changed how I love, whether through pain or ease. I want to be more than what I’ve survived. Perhaps there is some wisdom in using mistakes as a manual.

The root chakra deals with survival. To balance it, enables you to let go of what you do not need.

I know I have this thinking pattern of self-deprecation. Sometimes it’s as blatant as my sense of humor or as subconscious as self-sabotage. Why is my response to his attraction, to display aspects of myself that may make me unattractive, despite how true? I want to find out if it’s real so I give him the real. But what’s real doesn’t always have to be brutal, and flaw doesn’t make anything more real. I think my real self is somewhere between the perfection of outside projection, and the bad bags I carry. These memories in my shelf have no expiration date but are useless in recipes. Maybe not totally, since it’s still being served. It’s almost as if I take his interest as a challenge, to demystify myself. He finds me intriguing, so I maybe I murder that intrigue, because it puts me on a pedestal that could turn into a cage? It’s not about him. It’s narcissistic. It’s me recalling things I’ve survived while he learns the survivor.

Working with the root chakra comes in handy when one is feeling insecure, frightened, disconnected from your body or the world around you. physical or psychological paralysis can be mended by tending to this chakra.

Why do I resurrect the ghosts I’ve worked so hard to banish and get away from? I endured and survived toxic relationships and I’m not there anymore, I won. What did I win, if those hollow trophies take up space? And how can I be both winner and victim? Winning victim? Yes these things happened, sure they are a part of my story, but I am shaped because of the pieces of me that have been chipped away, or am I the ice or clay or wood or stone that is retained? I perhaps need to create a separate sculpture entirely, to satisfy myself into the new identity of someone who made something of it, since a mere retelling of story won’t satisfy it. some sort of kinesthetic conquering through creativity. I don’t want to be the bitter storm that dampens a sweet sky, even if it is all just air, heat, water.

To some extent, that’s how life is, we are shaped by our traumas and tragedies, assigned our personal demons to slay, with challenges to not become them despite how dirty the fight is. Perhaps it’s just a part of getting to know someone, specifically me. The process of dis-identification comes with maturity and evolution, like a shed reptile skin. Eventually you just push yourself out without knowing how it’s going to look when you do. The triggers that don’t trigger you anymore. Once fully processed, you don’t need to tell the stories of the shots that set the triggers happened in the first place. What you share, and when, is so much a part of intimacy that it’s damn near the whole point.

The positive emotions associated with the root chakra are security, loyalty, sense of community, while its negative emotions are fear, prejudice, blind faith.

Even if I tell these stories, I don’t want to introduce myself with them, I don’t want these experiences to define me, not anymore. My baggage does not make me interesting, I am interesting despite my baggage, not because of. It’s like I am trying to sabotage his interest while at the same time enjoying it, testing him. I need to know that the interest is real, and if it can be spoiled through finding out the worst parts of me, so let it be. I don’t want him to function under a delusion or illusion. Nor do I want to delude myself with a script that needs to be retired, and characters that have moved on. I have forgiven, but have I detached?

The base of the spine contains untapped infinite energy potential.

These emotional issues may be the underlying reason why I feel stuck in life, at least right now. My attachment to the script is the termite colony underneath the foundation. Sure I stay busy but am I progressing? I don’t know what confronting and releasing the negative thoughts I have inherited is going to look like, what that sculpture will be, what that recipe will taste like. In the meantime, I’m eating squash and potatoes and beets and carrots, meditating on the bright red orb between my hips, pushing upward, opening and closing, while my limp inevitably fades away. My intention is to achieve balance and alignment with my desires, get to a place where I perceive the world as a place safe enough to not wear scars as badges, and abundant enough to not have to carry old things. And even when I do revisit, I won’t feel shame around it. Through time, relaxation and touch, the tender sores of emotional loss become not numb but a part of the body, carrying energy from one part to another. You’ll limp until you walk.



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