Adventures in Reciprocity: The Eczema Quest
Feature: Adventures in Reciprocity Zine
Suddenly, Nami notices itchy, dry patches blooming on her skin.
Her little hands scratch and fidget. Mama’s heart aches—she longs for relief that feels gentle, kind, and true.
“Let’s ask the land,” says Mama.
So they walk to the sit spot, where every adventure begins.
They settle into reciprocal breathing—
🌬️ inhaling as the trees exhale,
🌍 exhaling as the earth inhales.
The circle of breath reminds them: we are not separate.
Nami whispers gratitude to the plants. Gina, the medicine woman, arrives with a basket woven of ancestral memory. Together, they harvest their green allies, offering song, hair strands, and shiny pebbles as gifts.
“Always ask permission,” Gina reminds them. “Always thank the plant for its generosity. Healing is a relationship.”
The Salve-Making Adventure
Around the garden table, the herbs are laid out like honored guests:
Calendula 🌼 – the golden healer, calming redness + irritation.
Plantain 🍃 – the cool comforter, drawing out heat + itch.
Lavender 💜 – the fragrant guardian, soothing stress + softening edges.
German Chamomile 💙 – the deep blue alchemist, easing fiery inflammation.
Marshmallow 🌿 – the silky protector, wrapping skin in moisture.
Licorice 🍬 – the sweet harmonizer, quieting redness + itch.
Comfrey 🌱 – the mender, helping skin renew itself.
Oat 🌾 – the gentle blanket, protecting tender places.
St. John’s Wort ✨ – the nerve whisperer, softening the itch that burns.
Nami stirs as Gina melts oils and beeswax, pouring intention into every swirl.
“This salve is not just medicine for your skin,” Gina explains.
“It’s a story of community—ancestors, plants, people, earth, and care, all remembering each other.”
The Healing
That night, Mama applies the salve gently, whispering a lullaby from her grandmother.
Each evening, Nami thanks the plants, her skin softening like petals after rain.
One day, at the doctor’s office, Mama holds her breath.
The doctor smiles: “Whatever you’re using—keep going.”
The children beam. The plants rustle.
The land hums: healing is communal.
And in that moment, they all remember what it means to listen with the heart, offer with the hands, and live in reciprocity with the garden that never forgets them.
May this little eczema quest remind us all: the land is alive, the plants are generous, and healing is always a relationship.