Today, a blanket of snow falls across Central Virginia.

Yesterday, I connected with a friend, and we spoke of honoring our bodies, finding balance in difficult situations, and listening to the genuine calls of the heart. I caught myself as I began to spiral—counting the atrocities we’ve witnessed in a wave of violence over the last several days—as I fulfill my duty to bear witness. I wear my heart with a little extra weariness.

I’m reminded of the magic of hawthorn.

Hawthorn, like rose, is heart medicine. Thorny and protective, she invites a sacred opening of the heart. While we resist being reductive—no plant is single-use—there is little doubt about her effectiveness in guiding the blooming of heart energy.

I often seek hawthorn candies from Chinese or Asian international markets before turning to other preparations, and I’m grateful for the accessibility of these remedies where I live.

This morning, I opened my inbox to a message from one of my favorite herbalists, Rosalee de la Forêt. She’s offering a series of free classes called The Rooted Medicine Circle, open to anyone interested in nurturing a deeper relationship with herbalism and the natural world.

Following curiosity—mine, and that of others—has led to profound connection and clarity around physical and spiritual healing, and a deepening relationship with the land we inhabit.

May we protect our hearts, and may we steel them for what’s to come.