Last week we had the pleasure of visiting Deb Soule at her beautiful herb farm and apothecary, Avena Botanicals.  I had just finished teaching the Farm to Pharmacy week with William Siff at Goldthread Farm in Massachusetts and a weekend class in Portland, Maine, hosted by Gina Mastroluca. Gina had made arrangements in advance for us to make the trip north to visit Deb outside of Rockport.

I have known of Deb and her work as an herbalist and teacher for many years, but never had the opportunity to spend time with her.  We arrived to find her and a fine lunch of fresh bread, local cheeses and salad from the garden under a giant willow tree, surrounded by a multitude of plants in their fall glory. It was an excellent beginning to what I imagined would become another enduring friendship based in mutual love and respect for the healing herbs.

My impression of Deb was that of a woman who, after twenty-six years of working and living intimately with everything growing around her, is inseparably part of the land, the plants, the creatures and the cycles of the seasons, and they of her. It is one thing to be an academically trained clinician, as I am, but it is something entirely different to know the herbs through years of daily contact as they germinate, grow, flower and seed, and then to be in contact with them at every stage of harvesting and preparation into medicines.

This life demands an immense amount of hard work and knowledge as well the skills and stamina to run a complex business, but it is rewarded with a multifaceted and multidisciplinary understanding of herbs and their powers that cannot be taught and a fulfillment that cannot be gained in easier yet more superficial livelihoods.  I saw that by embracing this vision and her path in it that Deb had entered into a sacred relationship with the elements of creation, which first benefit and thrive from her caretaking and in return bless her with a unique wisdom and brightness of spirit.

One of the important themes that we discussed in this first visit was Deb’s ongoing relationship with the FDA. When she first started producing herbal products over twenty years ago she was visited by an agent, who had come to a weekend class she had offered. This was the beginning of an ongoing series of visits that would culminate in her current round of investments to upgrade the infrastructure of the farm’s production capacity so that every step from the harvesting of each plant, through the drying, tincturing, and bottling could be tracked according to the agency’s stringent regulations.

I could imagine some of the feelings one might have when someone from a government agency who has the power to close your business appears at your door. I could also imagine what it must have been like to live for years knowing that at any time they could appear again, informing you that your efforts to work with plants and support community health with age-old, time-tested, non-toxic traditions was over.

As it was, Deb’s relationship with the FDA has been challenging but relatively civil, considering their infamous history and that armed SWAT teams have taken to raiding supplement factories and raw food stores recently. Like with any herbal company that reaches a certain size, the FDA was there to spell out the Good Manufacturing Practices, and Deb was given the choice of growing into compliance or closing.

Meeting the agency’s requirements was initially a daunting prospect. Avena is a small organic farm producing a small line of simple herbal remedies; it would require hundreds of thousands of dollars to build new facilities to house the production units and meet every detailed aspect of GMP’s.

Deb decided that this was an opportunity to grow and develop in a positive way, which could also be done according to her own terms. Without elaborating on the complexities and hardships it caused her, she simply said that with help from friends and the community she raised the money and that work was now going forward.

Across the yard a group of young men were building what would be the new home of Avena; the original small farmhouse where it is now based would become offices, and the herb manufacturing would move into a space that was both industrial and a temple. When the concrete was poured for the slab of the new manufacturing building, Deb told us, she had laid out a mandala of herbs and sacred objects, which became embedded in the floor. I could imagine an FDA agent standing unknowingly on this power spot, feeling a strange unexplainable sense of reverence for the plants that have healed humanity for millennia.

Avena is a perfect example of the challenges that occur when a small grassroots level apothecary grows to the point where it attracts the attention of the FDA and its regulatory requirements. Like other small herb farms that are operated by a clinical herbalist and teacher, it is a study in the contradictory forces at work when a project starts as a labor of love, becomes successful as a producer of artisan quality hand made herbal remedies, and then must transition into a larger and highly regulated industry without losing its organic roots and community-based inspiration that it came from. From what I could see, Deb was doing this with grace, supported no doubt by many unseen spiritual forces. Perhaps as confirmation of this, Avena has recently become the first farm in Maine to be biodynamically certified by Demeter.

And how many species of plants did she have growing around us, I wondered? She had lost count, she replied, but it numbered in the hundreds.  Her plan is to take time next year to gather, press and identify every plant on the thirty-two acre farm.  In the meantime, a small group of visitors joined our willow-shaded gathering, inquiring about the exotic white flower nearby that smelled like grapes. It was Japanese cohosh, we learned, a rare variety of Cimicifuga.

We left after lunch, Deb returning to her never-ending flow of responsibilities, Sara and I to the ferry for a visit to Monhegan Island. Before departing I left a small collection of aromatic treasures with Deb: some agarwood, Anahata perfume, Spirit blend, and others. She graciously accepted them, as I knew she would, but the gift was purely selfish, knowing that any offerings I make to great souls out of gratitude for their work may bring me some blessings in return.

Sara and I returned a few days later, hoping to contribute some time and labor in exchange for more education and inspiration. We found Deb working alone in the rain, deadheading Mexican sunflowers. She raised these specifically for the hummingbirds, she told us; the birds had all gone south for the winter, but in case there was one around she was hoping to get one more cycle of blooms. Pollinators were one of Deb’s serious interests; while we trimmed the last of the spent flowers she told us of her plans to go back to school to get a professional education in the field.

That evening it rained heavily. Deb and two of her interns prepared another excellent meal, and we talked until late about the importance of her work. She had recently been introduced to the MedicineCrow community website, and was enthusiastically interested in knowing more about it, what it was, how it worked. I took the opportunity to invite her to do a webcast interview in the near future, to be followed by more in-depth classes. Just as Avena is on the cusp of a new phase of industry growth, it is also moving into the new age of media necessary for a business to survive. Our evening ended with an understanding that many good projects were in store.

The next morning Deb departed early, traveling to teach at a women’s herbal conference. The only work she left for us was to pick the apples off an old tree that had fallen in one of the gardens, and to store them in the gigantic old barn from the 1800’s where her drying rooms were. It was a perfect ending to two weeks of travels through a New England fall.