Bedtime Stories Pt. III

Angitia’s Medicine Chest of Stories

bedtime stories pt. 3 ~ Angitia’s Medicine Chest of Stories🏺🐍🕊 Angitia is an ancestor of the Abruzzo Mountains. Sister of Circe and Medea, descendant of the Ancient Sybils. Not widely known - like a lot of the real ones - and often regarded first and foremost as a snake charmer by those who have heard of her. But her communion with snakes was more so indicative of her larger relationship and work with the Earth. Angitia’s medicine was that of antidotes, of storytelling, and of connecting people with the language and tools to navigate the complexities and often harsh realities of the world with grace. Regarding her as a snake charmer is definitely the romantic and perhaps even reductive way to describe a deep and enduring relationship she held with the life forms she lived amongst. Possessing the ability to discern medicine from poison was nothing short of valuable as fuck in her times, and in ours too. She held relationship with the spiders, bees, scorpions, snakes in order to understand their purpose, habits, preferences - to best live in a rhythm with them, to not disrupt, to prevent calamity. Dedicated her life to learning from Plants, listening to their much needed messages for people, passing them on. Taking the time to observe and understand their ways, and served as a conduit for their work. Again it sounds romantic, but it's hard work, sacrifice. We love the image of the witch helping her community, but also love to forget how the witches were hunted, turned on by those communities. The stories the Nonne keep and share about Angitia make sure not to paint over these truths. One of my favorite stories my bisnonna Zuzu told me was about Angitias Medicine Chest. I loved the way Zuzu told stories, really calm and matter of fact. She would tell me that Angitia was a doctor before there were doctors. Helping people get better from whatever ailed them. But she didn't do it by some divine force, insisting she herself was not a healer, but a messenger. She was an outsider from the larger community, operating within a small circle of people. The people of the larger community that would judge or ridicule her would also seek out her assistance. When they fell ill of sought her out for help, she would bring them to her medicine chest. There she kept a simple array of local plant friends that she tended and harvested for medicine. She instructed the people to choose the plants they were drawn to, but to understand that if they accepted the medicine the plant has to offer, that they would have to offer the plant something back. If they agreed they would then take some form of medicine of the plant they chose until they got better. While they were healing Angitia would tell them stories of how she met and got to know the plant they bonded with and chose. When the person felt well again they would go to the plant where it grew in the wild, and Angitia would leave the person with the plant, having told them to tell the plant their story, and to do whatever the plant asked of them next. Angitia would so often be delighted in running into each of these people later on, to find them spending time with the Plants caretaking them, or showing up in the world in much different ways than they previously had, with a renewed vitality and feeling of purpose. Zuzu would always end with, “see it is powerful to tell your own story, and also to encourage others to tell theirs.” This story always struck a chord with me. As a young spirited kid maybe it was just a good story about a witch that did it for me. But as I’ve grown up and continued to deepen my relationships in the world, it continues to feel more and more important, to not only be a keeper of knowledge and medicine, but to tell stories. To remember stories. To encourage others to tell some of their own. To seek out the good ones. To reject the bad ones. Learn the new ones. To connect with the origin of things as much as we can.