For many years, I worked as a teacher, guiding others through landscapes, maps, and stories of the world. Alongside that life, another thread was always present — quieter, older, and closer to the ground. I have always felt at home in woods and hedgerows, in kitchens and gardens, in places where hands are busy and attention is gentle. Crushing thyme between my fingers, walking slowly through fields, tending simmering pots — these are not hobbies for me. They are a remembering. The women of the past did not separate life from medicine. They did not rush. They did not perform expertise. They listened. That is the lineage I work within.