A Day in the Life

It's been a few weeks since the first time I told someone I was an herbalist. It began as am apology. And when I finished the sentence it was a declaration. I recall this moment now as empowering, risky, and awkward. Someone who I've known a long time asked me how school was going and I replied that I had just finished. She followed this up with, "Oh! Congratulations, so what are you going to be when you grow up?"
She said it haltingly, in that endearing sort of way.
"I'm going to consult people who want to try herbs and teach them how to use them to. Heal."
I said it like that. I paused between the words. I let it sit out there in the air for everyone in earshot. And this included me. I was suddenly buzzing and a little off my feet.
I walked away confused and tipsy. And happy.

I had made the announcement, to myself mostly, but it was made. So, there is this door in my life now and I sit behind it most of the time. But it's one I walk through every morning. The door to the herbalist's laboratory.

It feels good there. It's warm and smells good. It's an office of learning. I make teas and I spend hours hunched over a desk. I make phone calls and I have visitors. The sole employ of this space is to serve as a public human good- for anyone with a question or a need. They can be herbal needs, or nutritional needs. Maybe a question about this plant or that article.

I have emails that need answering, business that needs sorting, worksheets and recipes to transcribe and formulate. I spend a lot of time planning and my thoughts wander. I am free to explore the moments between calculator and laptop to craft ideas in my mind about my practice and where I want it to go and be.

I don't make money, by the hour or otherwise. That will come in time. But, for now, I am doing the work and building slowly my own reality. It's my life and my creation. I am fortunate and patient to have this luxury. The luxury of being a professional and an artist. The tools and resources I have gathered, whether by merit or grace, are not squandered in this place.

It's a physical place, and it's lovely. But it's most lovely because it inhabits this place in my mind, and in this place I am my best. And now that I've officially begun, it's only going to get better.

Marta Orozco,
Herbalist