I am twisting my way through the small gaps in the thick rainforest underbrush, my spirit-sister Sheila in front of me. She knows the forest better than I do, on account of her having a few years on me. She knows the forest. And she knows how to look through the forest and find the plants that we need. 

We're not looking for healing plants right now, as the stock in the healing tent is full. Instead, we're looking for any fruits or berries that might add to the community's food supply. Because we need to have enough to get by. No matter what happens, we need to have enough to get by. And thankfully, thankfully we can still rely on the rainforest to help us. 

It's slightly cooler here, in the warmth of the forest. It's slightly cooler than the village in the meadow, and it's dark and thick and full of life. Everywhere you turn, there is life of all sorts growing and reaching and sparking all around us. The whole forest seems to be flowing with energy, flowing with power, flowing with the breath of life. And I feel so very connected to it and connected to all the life in the world, as I always am when I'm in the forest. 

But today is not a time to simply commune with the forest, as is the case on some other days. Today I am filled with a sense of purpose. Purpose to keep my community safe. Purpose to provide for my community. Purpose to do what I can. This sense of purpose courses through my soul like water flowing through a tree. It courses through my soul and it grounds me and connects me with this life. 

This life. This life is a beautiful life. Despite all the hurt and the suffering and the loss. Despite all the need and the scraping by with only just enough, despite the heavy weight of history upon me, this life is still beautiful. And I'm blessed by the rainforest, I'm blessed by my community, I'm blessed by humanity. I'm blessed I'm so many ways. I would never want to give it all up. 

"So, ruzberry," Sheila starts, "have you seen little Cody swear? He does it so adorably. It's hilarious."

"No, I haven't heard him swear," I reply, "I'll have to soon."

"You will have to. Oh, it's so very cute. You can't get him to do it though. If you tell him to swear, he refuses. But if anything makes him angry, oh it's so super cute." 

"It is very cute when he gets angry."

"You're right, it really is."

"I love it when children get angry. They're such small little balls of rage."

"Oh they are. They just, they just express their emotions so completely."

"Yes, they have no inhibitions. And I get how adults need inhibitions. I totally get that. But small children are so, they're just so wild."

"They really are. And it's so hard to not give in to their adorableness."

"It is. Though a lot of times you absolutely should give in."

"That's true. A lot of times you should."

We reach a tree split into three different main trunks. It has smooth bark but thankfully it has many branches which make it easy to climb. And that's a good thing, too. In the leaves of the tree are nestled a wealth of juicy aranas. My mouth waters just from looking at them. 

We make our way up the tree and hang on to the branches with one hand; we fill our bags with the fruit. We take care to not take too much, to not take any more than we need. We must leave enough that the animals can take the fruit as well, so that the rainforest can be healthy and it can continue providing for us and giving us life. 

———

Being here is so different from being in the village. It's all so ... all so built. It's all so straight. There are so many sharp edges and not a speck of dirt anywhere. There are so many squares. So many squares and straight lines and flat surfaces. There is so much metal and plastic and technology. 

And it's busy here. Really busy. In that way, it's not too different from the village. But the busyness here is a different sort of busyness entirely than in the village. This is a sort of busyness where you don't have a choice, you don't have a voice and peace and purpose. 

Right now I am putting fries in the cage - well that's not what it's really called but it's what we call it - to get them ready to dunk in oil. I finish my task in a few moments and I swirl the fries in the hot oil. I let them cool, moving to put some burger patties on the grill. The next order comes in, and it's for a frosted brownie, so I quickly put frosting on a pre-made brownie. 

Orders come in and I work away, making the food that I need to make. My team around me moves busily through their own tasks. We work together in unison. And there's almost something beautiful about it. Almost. Because this unison, however efficient it is, is altogether forced, and you can see the hard press of powerlessness in the way that we talk to each other. 

Time goes by swimmingly fast and eventually I can put my apron up on the hook on the wall and I can get on the train and go back into the world I am much more familiar with. I'm lucky that I only have to work once a week. 

———-

"So this is for pain in the lower back," Oakley explains to us, holding up the scraggly-looking plant with long, thin stems and only slightly thicker leaves. We are in the healing tent, Amber, Justin and I, and we are having a lesson on healing from one of the senior healers in the village. 

"If the pain is sharp and burning, and feels like many pins inside the body pressing down at once, and if it comes and goes in waves, that is when you administer this medicine," they continue. "Administer one half cup every ten to fifteen minutes, and keep doing that until the pain goes away. After that, feed them two cups and tell them to get rest. Do you understand, students?"

"Yes," we answer in a messy unison. 

"Good. I will show you how to prepare it."

They purify the rock table in front of them using fire. And we all pay close attention as they work.

"First cut the leaves from the stem, and seep them in boiling water." They put the leaves on the pot over the fire. "And for the stems, use your fingers to peel them lengthwise into tiny strands, as small as you can make them." We watch Oakley work, creating many fine, almost hair-like strings out of the long strands. "This part is difficult," they tell us, "and you really have to pay attention. Got it?"

"Got it," we echo, keeping our eyes on Oakley as they continue peeling the stems. 

"Stir the water every few minutes," they explain to us, "and keep an eye on the water level. If it is boiling too fast, take the pot off of the fire for a bit. Which I'm sure you all know how to do."

"Yes," we reply, enraptured by their demonstration. I love healing. I love making people feel better. We all do. And we all love learning about healing, learning about how to make people feel better. In addition to healing, I love working with the plants of the forest and with all of the gifts that the forest has to offer us. 

"The water should be boiling slowly and softly. Almost simmering, but not quite. You should throw in ground up jako bark into the pot after it has boiled for ten minutes, in order to help the medicine become absorbed into the body. After that, you should add in the stem strands." They put in the pre-ground bark, bark that we have a constant supply of in the healing tent, on account of how much we need it. They then add in the stems, and keep stirring. 

"How long does this need to boil for?" Amber asks. 

"Good question, Amber. This takes a long time to make. It usually takes about an hour. The resulting solution will be very concentrated."

"Alright. Thanks."

"Any other questions?"

"How will we know when it's ready?" I ask. 

"Good question, Terry. You know by the colour. Once it's a bright, deep green, then it is ready to be taken off of the pot. I will show you all once it's ready."

"Okay."

"Once it's ready," Oakley continues, "it would be served warm. Not scalding, but warm enough that the patient can feel it. If it gets cold, you will need to warm it up again. Not until it boils, but just until the water becomes warmer. Got it?"

"Yep," we answer all together. 

"And remember, always, healing water does not come from the river. Healing water comes from a spring surrounded by reddish earth."

"Of course," we reply, because we all knew that. It's one of the first things that we are taught.

"When you are stirring," Oakley continues explaining, "do not just stir in one direction. Switch directions every couple of turns. And this will agitate the water so that it soaks up more of the plants' essences."

"Alright." 

"Any other questions?" They ask. 

"When we are administering the medicine," Justin begins, "should we tell the patient to drink it all at once or in little sips?"

"Good question. For this medicine, drinking it all at once is good, so that it does not lose its heat during the time in which it is drank. The heat also helps the sickness, and it helps the patient to feel better."

"And what if the patient is a child and cannot handle hot things?" Amber asks. 

"Good question. Then it would do well to distract them using a story or a song while they drink the solution."

We keep listening and watching as Oakley teaches us, paying close attention to everything. I feel so full of love and connection and purpose. As I always do when I am healing anyone or learning about healing. I am so grateful that this knowledge still survives within us, even if it's in a limited capacity. I am so grateful that we can still heal each other. That we can still help each other. The Creator knows that we need it. 

Especially since the healing infrastructure of the outsiders' is closed to us. The outsiders, they have ways to heal themselves too. They have great ways to heal themselves, ways which are very powerful. They are not like our traditional methods of healing, and are rather strange. But they work really well. The problem is that the hospitals and clinics of the outsiders cost a lot of money to go to, money that us rainforesters do not have. 

But still, the medicine from the rainforest is free, it's free to us all, and it doesn't cost anything for us to heal each other. So, relying on the rainforest, we can get by.