Birthings, Grassroots Healing, Musings, Reflections, Spirituality

The Mother Within

For Mum. Love you xo

 

“Rejoice with Jerusalem, and be glad with her, all you who love  her; rejoice for joy with her, all you who mourn for her; That you may feed and be satisfied with the consolation of her breast, that you may drink deeply and be delighted with the abundance of her glory”…”behold I will extend peace to her like a river, and the glory of the nations like a flowing stream. Then you shall feed; On her sides shall you be carried and be dandled on her knees. As one whom his mother comforts, so I will comfort you; and you shall be comforted in Jerusalem.”

This is one of my favourite passages out of all the writings of the Prophets. It’s hard to imagine now of this troubled city, but it speaks of a time to come when a true, everlasting peace shall flow out of Jerusalem to bring comfort and healing to the whole world. The poetry evoking the maternal archetype is sublime. It touches that deepest part of ourselves, to that tiny baby that still exists deep in our core, who still craves the tenderness and comfort and nourishment that only a mother can give. The archetype is universal in its application, whether we experienced it with our own mothers or not, it gives us hope.

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Carnations. My mums favourite. image source: Wikimedia commons.

The purpose of introducing this post with this quote is not to discuss or expound the belief system that it comes from, instead this central concept of drinking deeply of this outflowing comforting peace reminded me of an interesting parallel to that other, and equally archetypal mother we continue to carry within ourselves – the Extra-Cellular Matrix.

Today it is Mother’s Day here in Australia, so I thought it fitting to drop a post about a thought process that I recently shared on Facebook, that as Matthew Wood noted, makes the Extra-Cellular Matrix exceptionally human, and in my pattern-attuned mind, Divinely inspired. It came to me whilst listening to Matthew talk about the mucopolysaccharides in Marshmallow Root (which gives a cold infusion of the root a slimy, gel like consistency) and how in practice we might use it in ‘leaky gut syndrome’ because it is similar to the Matrix material which acts as something like a mortar in between the cells in the gut lining. I’ll explain what this means and revise what the ECM is as I share my thought process here in the fulness of its progression.

Which came first, the protein or the Matrix? For a long time, alternative health practitioners have said that dairy/milk is mucous forming^, it’s acidic (when pasteurised and homogenised), and it’s one of the top food allergens. Mainstream medicine and mainstream dieticians have always refuted these concepts, possibly dependant on where their funding came from. This post/thought process isn’t about the inherent good or badness of dairy in the diet, nor is it an invitation to debate whether breast really is best (it is), rather I am drawing correlations in regard to the role of the Extra-Cellular Matrix in the effects of milk on the human body – particularly the infant human body.

Many years ago, during a semester of Nutritional Biochemistry, I learned that babies are born with purposefully designed ‘leaky guts’. That is, their gut membrane is full of tiny little holes^^. These tiny perforations don’t seal up until the appearance of the first teeth. There’s an ingenious reason for this. Mother’s breast milk, especially the Colostrum of the first 2-3 days post-birth, is full of proteins such as antibodies and other immunity-founding components, as well as the macronutrients – fat, carbs, and protein. The ‘leaky gut’ of the baby allows these large proteins to move through and start establishing a good foundation for the immune system. Different microflora species, as well the food they need are also found in breast milk, and this – along with the flora received during the normal birth process – helps to establish the baby’s own gut microbiome. We now know that a healthy microbiome has far-reaching health affects – from our immunity to our mental health.

My understanding is that the emergence of the teeth signals that along with this sealing of the gut membrane, the baby is now ready for solids and other foreign proteins – found in other animal products and grains in particular. Introduction of these prior to this milestone confuses the fledgling immune system and sets up an immune response, which if coupled with other foreign intrusions (such as formaldehyde, aluminium, mercury, and recombinant DNA from bovine, porcine, and simian tissue, and aborted human foetal tissue – also known as Human diploid cells MRC-5), results in the development of allergies and food intolerances. But in learning about the ECM (extra-cellular matrix), I’ve now come to a slightly more developed understanding.

The ECM is the gel-like fluid that exists between the capillaries, the lymphatic vessels and the cells themselves. It consists of single-molecule width polymers such as glucosamine and hyaluronic acid. This ‘matrix’ receives nutrient and metabolic waste product like some central transport station which then organises where everything needs to go. Whereas once the cell theory (that is, the cell was an autonomous unit that regulated itself) dominated medical thought (and still does), researchers have since found that it is actually this Matrix that regulates all cell function, and acts as a unified whole throughout the body as an organ in its own right. Most recently it has been rediscovered by mainstream science and is now known as the Interstitium. By and large this is the organ that the treatment of alternative practitioners targets the most. And we were doing this intuitively long before the mainstream got wind of it.

I’ll let Matthew, referencing Alfred Pischinger, the doctor who brought the Interstitium to the fore, describe the Extra-cellular Matrix with his usual eloquence;

“It was Dr Alfred Pischinger (2007) who demonstrated that the pathology and biology based on the cell as the basic “unit of life” was a delusion resulting from superficial observation and disregard for the complexities of natural systems. His research on the extracellular matrix is still to be appreciated in conventional medicine, but Pischinger has shown that the basic functional unit of life is the capillary/matrix/cell. The cell in a multicellular organism does not control itself, like a person or an animal, but is controlled by the matrix, which determines when and what it east, when it releases waste products, whether it reproduces or migrates, ad how actively it contributes to the life of the organism as a whole. The matrix is fed and drained by the capillary bed (including the lymphatic capillaries), and therefore this triad is the basic unit of life. Changes in the cell are related to changes in its environment, and changes in this environment are related to changes in the circulation.“(Wood, et al. 2015. Traditional Western herbalism and Pulse Evaluation: A conversation.)

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Gustav Klimt.1905. Mother and Child.

Now I have to wonder, as I examine breast milk more closely – yes, it seems to be the same consistency as ECM fluid – indeed most secretions in and from the body are composed of this fluid. With this in mind, I contemplate whether the importance of breast milk lies not so much in the immune proteins etc that it provides (although the love, comfort, and nutritional nourishment is paramount), does it – as an extension of the mother’s matrix – actually entrain the baby’s matrix? We might compare this with how the mother’s heart entrains the baby’s heart to beat at a regular rhythm, or the mothers breathing patterns entrain, or teaches the baby to breathe more slowly and evenly. This speaks to the instinct to carry our newborns around, or sleep next to them, keeping them close to our hearts, now sadly often over-ridden.

When we introduce milk from another animal before the appropriate time, does the baby’s body instead recognise that this matrix material simply does not carry the same ‘vibe’ as the mother’s matrix? After all, as I write this I have to conclude that amniotic fluid also has its origins in the matrix fluid, and given that the baby has spent some 40 weeks being bathed in this very personal imprint of his or her mother, I suspect that the similarities would be instantly recognised – at least on a sub-conscious or instinctive level.

This is important, because if we understand the incredible significance of this Interstitium, this Matrix (interestingly, from the Latin – also meaning ‘mother’), on the regulation of our bodies and our overall health, then surely we should come to a greater appreciation of how important this innately human liquid gold is to our children.

I think another fascinating tangent off this is that for women who, for whatever reason, can’t breastfeed, the historical record going back to the most ancient of annals tells us that until we felt the need to sterilise our experience of life, finding a wet-nurse seemed instinctive. The wet nurse was a surrogate nursing mother, and often this was another mother, relative, or a hired servant. Occasionally, in the most dire of circumstances or in the mythological realm, the wet-nurse was an animal. But even the thinking that the intelligence of the wet-nurse would be inherited by the nursling is telling. And to complete the continuum, I was recently discussing this thought process with my own Mum, and she mentioned that when I was a baby her doctor told her that the baby’s saliva is exactly the same as the Mother’s. Instinctively, during the introduction of solid foods and foreign proteins, many mothers throughout history in all cultures would chew the food first before giving it to the infant. This instinct began the process of digestion, reducing the food to a mush and therefore making it easier for the baby’s young digestive tract to recognize and accept. I’m not one to think that the ancients were clumsily fumbling around in a darkness filled with the cobwebs of superstition. I think that they knew and experienced life in its full expression, something that most of us might only dream abou

It is beyond the scope of this platform, as well as your attention to go as deep as the subject will allow here, so if you would like to know and understand more about the Extra-cellular Matrix, particularly in regard to how we work with it through herbal medicine, keep an eye out for Matthew Wood’s new book on the subject, publishing sometime in the next year. A preview of his work on it can be found at www.matthewwoodinstituteofherbalism.com

I find that the physical manifestations of the untainted creation are an expression of the spiritual, and so some of you may continue to run with this concept of a unifying Matrix and consider what upholds and sustains the universe and keeps the planets and the stars in their orbits, or Who binds the cluster of the Pleiades, or loose the belt of Orion?

I will leave you to ponder.

 

 

Until next time,

Blessings be on the Mothers xo

 

 

 

 

Addendums and continuing thoughts:

 

^ A 2013 study published in the Journal of Nutrition found that bioactive peptides in cow’s milk do indeed induce mucous production in the neonatal rat jejunum (small intestine). The response appears to be a protective mechanism. https://academic.oup.com/jn/article/133/11/3499/4817930

 

^^ It is now recognised that mouth-like openings known as ‘tight junctions’ exist in the gut membrane. Opiate-like proteins (bioactive peptides) such as those found in Gluten stimulate the release of a hormone called Zonulin which controls the opening and closing of these tight junctions, and this stimulation can give rise to gluten-sensitivity as the continual consumption of gluten-containing products keep these tight junctions open via the constant release of Zonulin, which then leads to an inflammatory response due to the entrance of the large foreign proteins in Gluten products that bypass normal digestion. Mammalian milk, whether from a cow, dolphin, or human also contains similar bioactive peptides that act like opiates in the body. This opiate like effect is evidenced by the ‘punch-drunk’ expression of a baby satisfied after a full feed from her mother’s breast, and why babies have a tendency to fall asleep whilst feeding. Further research is perhaps needed to determine whether these tight junctions in the newborn gut are permanently open and kept open by the continual supply of Mothers milk, or the perforations exist between the cells themselves and the tight junctions are not yet in operation until the teeth erupt.

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Musings, Reflections, Spirituality

The Liminal Wildling

A Tale for the Autumn Equinox

 

The Great Wheel turns and the weather becomes a little spasmodic, a spluttering fisticuff between summer and autumn, and the elemental tussle between fire, air, and water. None willing to give in. Yet Summer knows that she must move on, and so here in the Southern hemisphere, in my neck of the antipodean woods anyway, this week leading up to the Autumnal Equinox saw the winds of change blow in a deluge. A great washing away of the vestiges of summer past. That hint of rain-sodden humus is Heaven scent as it marks a renewed covenant with the land.

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For me, this time of year is a time to start going inward, not just in preparation for the colder months ahead and the medicines I need to make, the warm clothes I need to start unpacking, but a time of self-reflection and self-examination. What have I accomplished in the previous year? How have I grown?

But this year I also consider not only how I have grown, but as the Mythologist and Storyteller, Dr Martin Shaw invites us to consider – to what depth?

The process of Autumn itself reminds us to go deep. As the energy of the plants begins to move down into their roots, the deciduous leaves are drained of their colour from verdant green to iconic hues of golds, oranges, and reds. These colours are reminiscent of the colours of those lower emotional energy centres in the body’s subtle anatomy. The yellow/ gold of the solar plexus, the orange/brown of the sacral, and the deep red of the root. They invite us to also turn and focus our energies on strengthening our foundations, our roots, and our sense of place. It is in autumn that we harvest most of the roots we use for medicine and for food.

I want to build myself a cob roundhouse, deep in the wild wood, and curl up inside Earth’s womb.

Inspired by the work of Matthew Wood and the seven guide posts outlined in his book  Seven Herbs: Plant as Teachers, I have arrived at my own autumnal Process, an alchemically liminal space of dissolution of ego into refinement of soul, forty one years in the making – of severing the bonds of civilisation’s lies, of religions control, of politricks and propaganda, of other people’s projections and beliefs, and of past hurts, and I’m coming home to myself – that wild, uncivilised self, where there is just me – naked and unashamed. I am in the process of re-wilding. Of walking new songlines in the earth. Of rambling with the bloodline whispers of an ancient people not yet encumbered by the burgeoning yoke of this particular age. Of dancing wilder dances with the plants of remembrance. Of pulling thorns and thistles with my bare, bleeding hands. Of being in relationship with the primal God, without mechanical interpretation.

‘Liminal, the zone between high and low tide, describes a place that is neither land or sea. It is a place of earthly fluidity where little of yesterday remains today. … We might extend the potential of the word liminal further. We can include the moments just before dawn and the slow minutes of dusk, to the whisper of a storm soon to descend, or the breathless beat of thunder directly overhead. All these times and places have one thing in common, the human consciousness is, momentarily, silenced by their power.

 Liminality is a quality of transitional, marginal spaces, places, and spheres of influence. Anthropologically it equally applies to humans, denoting that moment in a ritual when the old identity has been shed but the new one is yet to reveal itself. Illness and deep inner crisis can be as liminal as birth and death.  Some people live their lives in almost permanent liminality, some through choice and others through breakdown. These are often the outcasts of society, the misfits, the broken, the homeless and the inspired.

These people show us the boundaries of our culture and the shadows beyond. They do this not through any abstracted academic analysis but through every moment of their living experience. They are feared, fetished or idealised and if embraced it is only slowly and with caution. They take us to the margin where we stand at the edge of comfort and look into our personal unknown. On occasion they take us to a place of inner anarchy where comforting structures of cultural obedience fade to insignificance ” (Nathaniel Hughes – Weeds in the Heart.)

I might aspire to be a poet, but I am not one. Yet I can feel the poiesis move through the world along a network of these liminal spaces. Betwixt and between, in equinox and solstice, in the coming and going of cycles and rituals. This becoming of the invisibles of creation. This poetic manifestation of a much needed Light.

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But it isn’t the light of summer, or the light of the hearth fire on a cold winters night, or the luminous super moon that heralds this particular cycle. It is the light that can only be kindled during the dark night of the soul, when all has been lost or stripped away or shed in ritual and discarded and you seek yourself in a looking glass darkly only to realise you have become without form and Void. A little death ensues. And having found yourself thus, you’ve buried yourself in the leaf-mould of the garden, in the cool of the evening, and you look up to the wild God, and you say, “I have nothing left.”

And he says, “Good. Now we can work. Let there be Light.”

In this regard, I am reminded of the curse laid upon Adam when he was expelled from the Garden. That he would toil the ground for his food, and that it would only bring forth thorns and thistles. The name Adam is a root word for the word for earth (Adamah) – because that is what mankind was made from. I see this analogy as referring to the inner landscape of the humankind. A kind who let tangled chokeholds of thorn and thistle grow around their inner most beings – whether this is intentional or through supressing emotional wounds and believing other people’s lies. If we want to produce good, sweet, sun-ripened living fruit, we need to till our inner soil and remove these barriers that choke us and prevent us from healing and growing. Yet in doing so, as we till, we aerate the soil, we turn it and expose all the lies that lie beneath, and it forces us to be honest with ourselves. Often thorns and thistles indicate acidic soils, and often their roots dig deep and aerate the soil and bring up vital nutrients from the deeper layers. And many thorns and thistles provide habitat for other forms of life. So our thorns and thistles, in spite of their choking, also have a purpose in making us confront our deeper core as we begin to remove them, and the beliefs of others that attach themselves to us. If we do manage to produce fruit amidst this entanglement, it may be eaten from within or feasted upon by the denizens of the bramblechoke before it sees the light of day, and perhaps in this we might ponder the curse of Eve who was to produce her offspring in pain and sorrow. An offspring who have inherited in the flesh the thorn of their forebears. It’s a difficult task to face ourselves and to be honest with ourselves, to be prepared to die a little death. But we must remove these thorns, we must till the soil and lay ourselves bare if we want to heal, and if we want to stand honestly in reconciliation with the wild God. And oftentimes, the only way to do that is with our bare hands, alone, in the depths of the darkest night. IMG_3873

I seek during this tekufah, this turn of the year when day and night mirror each other, to rewild myself to the garden I used to live in before the devourer came and tore it down and left me only with a bramble-choked home. To leave the wilderness of a gnarled and twisted society and return to the wild, with my emptied, naked vessel eager to be filled with a small ember of Light, a tiny flickering aurora of Hope, of Healing, of Wholeness. A glimmer of warm comfort to carry me through the cold, dark times ahead.

And just perhaps, on reflection, I have grown deep, in spite of myself, in losing myself and shedding my old scarred and weathered and thorn-pricked skin, and my roots snuggle in to the bedrock of a renewed heaven and a renewed earth.  And I curl up inside the earth’s womb, a glowing ember keeping me warm, a new sprout gestating as I overwinter, waiting for the wheel to turn once more.

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The photos above were taken by me (M.Carnochan 2019) on the Autumn equinox during a nature ramble on the mountain behind our home.