a month with marshmallow
Marshmallow has accompanied me through December. Soft,sensual, associated with Spring waters and blooming in June or July, she wasn’t the most obvious choice for this deep midwinter month.
But she called to me and has been with me for much of this year. She is such a gentle comforter, moves slowly, softly, and with compassion. After a year that has been work-intense and dogged by illness, her softness resonated with a month of rest and creativity. It’s there in her texture — slippery, smooth, soothing. If she speaks of boundaries it is those made through tenderness rather than defense.
Maternal and protective, yet never cloying, her quiet presence matched a slower time. And her actions, physical and emotional, spoke to me body and soul — moistening dryness, cooling inflamation and grief, replenishing what is depleted. And as she works on tissues and spirit, she teaches how to soften, how to retain moisture and vitality without rigidity.
Marshmallow brought me back to the centrality of attention in how we live small lives well and creatively, reminding me of the way in which Simone Weil likens attention and prayer in Gravity and Grace:
Inner supplication is the only reasonable way, for it avoids stiffening muscles which have nothing to do with the matter. What could be more stupid than to tighten up our muscles and set our jaws about virtue, or poetry, or the solution of a problem. Attention is something quite different.
[…]
Attention, taken to its highest degree, is the same thing as prayer. It presupposes faith and love.
Absolutely unmixed attention is prayer.
She is the archetype of the healer’s healer — the herb that tends the tenders, restores kindness to the self, and rebuilds trust in one’s own internal waters. And who among us is not tending to others in this demanding world?
Cooling, moistening (marshmallow is deeply demulcent) and with a slightly sweet, earthy taste. She coats and soothes inflamed or irritated tissues, especially of the mouth, throat, stomach, intestines, bladder and lungs, working as an expectorant for hacking coughs. She is a balm for skin and promotes healing of irritated or ulcerated surfaces. Marshmallow is a gentle inflammation modulator, working through mucilage and boosting immunity. She relieves irritation in the urinary tract, making her supportive for infections or cystitis. And she is a prebiotic, beneficial for gut flora by providing polysaccharides that nourish the microbiome.
In September, just before travelling to the UK, I had three Lyme-infected tick bites and spent most of the time while travelling taking a course of heavy antibiotics. It was a decision not taken lightly, but I’ve seen the effect of years of Lyme Disease on a close family member and my body’s reaction to the bites was dramatic.
The last few months I’ve worked on rebuilding the gut microbiome and marshmallow has been at the core of this. Every few days I’ve made a cold water infusion, leaving root in a kilner jar overnight and drinking a small glass each evening. Marshmallow is such an effective demulcent, she coats surfaces so well, it’s always advisable to take her internally at least an hour from food or any prescribed medications as she can effect absorbency rates and amounts.
The cold decoction is delicious and is good mixed with cooled peppermint tea if you want a sweeter, more aromatic flavour plus the calming effects of the mint. (Though a note not to take peppermint if you suffer from acid reflux as she’s a carminative herb and relaxes the epiglotis further.)
I also made a tincture of the mixed leaf and root. The flowers can also be added to teas, all of which — root, leaf and flower — are heat sensitive, though the leaves will tolerate a short infused tea and the roots best prepared cold to extract the constituents. The tincture has been my waking ritual — drop doses to meet the plant rather than a medical dose.
Her gentleness is profoundly healing. Wherever lifescrapes us raw, leaving us brittle, she whispers her softening. Her nurturing is not about turning from the world, but paying attention to stress, grief, inflammation (physical or emotional) while remaining receptive. We don’t generally get snow in Brittany, but my image of her through December as I’ve taken time to write and pause, has been of snow. The sort that is downy and delicate, blankets and muffles everything, yet is powerful. Under her touch, expression flows, dry tissues and tense fascia relax, hardened emotions dissolve. She’s a herb of the water element aligned with the moon and Venus. Softness is her protection and I’ve felt grateful to end a sometimes difficult year with her as she asks:
How do you need to soften in this world?
Marshmallow and peppermint tea
1 tbsp marshmallow root
1 tsp peppermint leaf
1 cup water at room temperature
This is a simple and effective tea for sore throats and also helps with coughs.
In a mason jar, combine the marshmallow root and room temperature water (spring water or filtered if possible). Cover it with a lid. Most roots would be decocted in hot water — a rolling boil for about 10-20 minutes but with marshmallow the mucopolysaccharides that make it demulcent and effective are destroyed by heat.
Allow the mixture to sit for 6-8 hours or overnight.
Strain out the roots and leaves, leaving behind a syrupy yellow-liquid and drink.
Make a peppermint tea with boiling water and allow to cool.
To take, combine the teas with a ratio of 2 parts marshmallow to 1 part peppermint. (If you can’t tolerate peppermint due to acid reflux the marshmallow alone is also lovely).