Whenever the act of writing and I have periods of absence from one another, more often than not, we reacquaint through a stream of consciousness diary. Such is the nature of this post.
I begin each day with a mug of fresh ginger tea. A small piece, sliced from the body root, spoon-peeled and coarsely grated into a mug, fiery strands and fibres and juice submerged and steeped in hot water, then strained into a drinking vessel.
Ever since my previous flare-up, during which, due to its intensity, I put myself on a stricter low-FODMAP diet, I have found the ginger tea a perfect way of waking up my digestion- igniting, or firing up the furnace, I like to say- in a way that the peppermint tea does not. While it has worked fantastically for me in the past, the peppermint oils now aggravate the acid reflux and seem to stress out my gut, which I inherently strive to avoid. The ginger, I know, is soothing and healing beyond what I primarily use it for. This method of fighting fire- the oesophageal burn- with fire- the fresh, scorched earth root tea- to aid the fire that fuels my entire body, and coax out any lingering pain, is a potent power for me: it feeds my core, physical and spiritual, and reconnects me at my centre.
Ciona Bhachu-Nankervis 