This is an excerpt from my book, “Divine Nourishment.” It will
support you through the cold winter months. Not only with your food, but your perspective and relationship with the Dark Goddess that is supporting you to dive deep and heal what’s in the shadows. Winter is the ideal time for this work.
It is winter. She calls me. I ignore her. She tugs at me. I’m busy. She tugs harder. I resist. The sharks are out there. I’ll be devoured. I’ll drown in her churning force. I refuse. She washes the sand away from under my feet. I cling to the rocks, screaming for help. She’s pulling me in. I thrash around in the high surf, my body rigid. She throws me around like a rag doll. I tumble, crashing into the sand. She demands that I return to her every winter. “Remember!” she cries out. I can no longer pry myself from her grip. I let go, knowing I will surely die, and I sink.
My life replays itself. Old unresolved wounds appear like a swarm of giant wasps attacking their prey. My stomach twists itself into a knot. My heart beats with the ferocity of a ninety-piece percussion band. My limbs go numb. My mind goes mad, unable to sort it out. I sink deeper. She envelops me with her rhythmic warmth. The deep blue water becomes still. She holds me. I relax, surrender to my fate.
My yearly ritual with Grandmother Ocean is as predictable as winter following autumn. I know it’s coming every year when the leaves begin to fall and the earth retreats into the depths. The element of water rules the season.
The great goddess, Grandmother Ocean, embodies this element. She holds the story of all there is and ever was. Life would not exist without her. She flows from the heavens, through the forests, across the land, nourishing and kissing everything along the way. She circulates, becomes rain, creeks, rivers, lakes, giving life—always returning to herself. She holds the deep wisdom that is found at the depths of the still waters.
Every winter she calls, engulfing me with her embrace. I struggle. Finally, I curl up and suckle at the bosom of her infinite well of consciousness.
She cleanses my soul. She fills me with life force, gives me the will to live, teaches me to flow, rest and fill up in winter with her essence. She fuels my sexual, creative energy—the chi, life force, that animates my life. She washes away the accumulated garbage that I drag around, that keeps me from feeling alive. She drowns the demons that hold me by the throat. She surrounds my heart. Why do I resist her every year? She embodies life—and death.
I am torn between two worlds. In the inward stillness of this season, she reminds me of what I need to heal so I may give birth to myself in spring. She insists that I do my part, that I confront the demons that keep me from loving all aspects of myself and block the doorway to my freedom and joy.
But sometimes all the lights and holiday celebrations seduce me. Joining the rush of the holidays, I avoid my agreement with her and the challenging work of transformation. But my soul pleads with me as Grandmother Ocean offers her assistance, “I remember!”
It is time to deeply nourish myself in these winter months and wash myself. My holidays become slower-paced, more intimate with my loved ones. I give up on trying to avoid this journey. She insists that I surrender, rest, nourish myself and own her.
The foods I eat in this season and how I cook them play a big role in supporting me to receive her gifts. I shift my eating habits to stay connected with her. I eat more foods that grow beneath the surface, cook for a longer period of time—slow-cooking soups, long-roasted, or braised dishes. When I eat in sync with the season, it’s as if a wise woman appears along a cold, barren trail. She invites me to warm myself by a fire with a deep bed of coals, and offers me a hot bowl of soup, a loaf of bread.
All five flavors are included in my diet—salty, sour, bitter, sweet, pungent. This helps me nourish all of myself and keep my balance. Eating only a few of the selected flavors is like riding on a surfboard, balanced on one foot, leaning to the right or left. I will end up thrashing around in the winter surf.
I look for ingredients that have been grown near where I live. These foods are on the same cycle and resonate energetically with me. I don’t eat foods from the opposite hemisphere that only grow in the summer months. Summer foods float on the surface of the water while I’m swimming ninety feet below in the winter. It’s okay for me to have fewer ingredients to play with in this season. I discovered simple is not necessarily less delicious.
I make sure I have plenty of foods from the waters, such as local fish or seaweed, in my diet in the winter. They are highly nourishing to the kidneys and bladder, the organs related to winter and the water element. I don’t scrimp on foods and herbs that nourish my kidneys. They directly affect how much creative, sexual, life-force energy I have. I certainly don’t want to run out of that.
Whole grains, such as brown rice, wheat berries, and wild rice are superb for calming the nervous system, also related to winter and the water element. A calm nervous system allows a sense of awe and supports one’s ability to go with the flow, instead of floating rigid, in fear. This can definitely have an effect on my perspective as I dive into the depths.
I indulge in cups of hot teas. Schizandra Berry is common for building both the yin and yang of our kidney energy. It is important to rinse and soak these berries overnight before using them to remove toxicity that can irritate the kidneys. Discard the water and rinse the soaked berries once again before cooking. It is also important to simmer them in a clay or glass pot. They do not mix well with metal.
Simmer a couple tablespoons of soaked berries in about four cups of water for 20-30 minutes. Strain and drink. I use these berries for two rounds of water for my tea before they are used up. Another good tea combination is Horsetail with Oatstraw. The Horsetail supports the kidneys while the Oatstraw nourishes the nervous system. This tea I steep in boiled water.
I slow down and moderate my outgoing energy so I can build my life force. I take time to reflect and enjoy long cups of hot tea or a bowl of soup with an intimate friend. I sit by the fire, let it melt the armor around my heart and get my body massaged.
Most of all, I eat some sumptuous dark, rich chocolate to remind me how grand life is. I smear this luscious, melted nectar in the faces of my demons and keep my sense of humor.
I support the winter journey by nourishing myself in this way and let Great Grandmother carry me. Without fail, she cradles me, nourishes me, cleanses me and floats me back to the surface in spring, renewed, rejuvenated and bursting with life force to fuel my new growth. Once again, I survive death.
