Early this morning, I woke up with a dull headache. I had overworked myself yesterday and my body was probably reminding me in its own language. Instinctively, I reached for the garden.
The first thing I did was cut a few stalks of lemongrass. I washed them carefully, pounded them just enough to release their scent, and placed them in my kettle to boil. Ever since I understood the benefits of lemongrass, I made sure to make the preparation process to be deliberate and grounding, in fact almost reverent.
To be honest, I’ve been unlearning my dependence on quick fixes. I no longer want to reach for paracetamol or any other painkiller every time my body whispers discomfort. Instead, I want to listen to my body and respond gently and also return to what heals rather than what silences.
Lemongrass, I’ve learned, eases headaches and calms the nerves. It slows you down and helps your blood flow well. As the tea brewed, I sat there inhaling the scent from the vapour as it circled the room, softening the air. And when I drank it, I made sure it was warm and I could literally feel my body exhale.
Since this morning, although I made plans to carry this out last year but never went on with it, I’ve decided to make it a ritual. Each morning, on an empty stomach, I take a cup, not just to calm my nerves, but to improve blood flow, to settle my system and to prepare myself for the day ahead. To me, it’s less about the tea and more about the intention.
I figured recently that there’s something powerful about starting the day this way, quietly, with your hands, and with plants that just makes your day. This is how I begin my mornings now. No more rushing and I’m taking my health seriously this year.