You know, folks often ask me why I’m suddenly so keen on certain old-school remedies. I used to be the first one to pop a pill for anything. Quick fix, right? But then, life kinda hits you, and you start looking at things a bit differently. For me, it was these crazy headaches and a sort of constant, light-headed feeling that just wouldn’t quit. Went to a couple of doctors, got the usual “it’s stress” or “try these tablets.” The tablets helped a bit, sure, but they also made me feel kinda woozy in a different way, if you know what I mean.
It was getting really annoying. Trying to focus on work felt like wading through fog. Evenings, when I just wanted to relax, that dull throb would be there, just lurking. I complained to my mom, naturally. And she, bless her, started going on about Tianma. “Your grandma used to swear by it,” she said. Honestly, I just brushed it off. Sounded like another one of those things people say, you know? A dried root? Against these killer headaches? Seemed unlikely.
So, How Did I Actually Get Into Using Tianma?
Well, desperation is a great motivator. After a particularly bad week, I was rummaging through an old neighborhood market, the kind that sells all sorts of dried goods and traditional stuff. And there it was, slices of what looked like dried wood chips. The old guy running the stall told me it was Tianma. I figured, what have I got to lose at this point? So, I bought a small bag.
Now, getting started was a whole process. This wasn’t like just taking a pill with water. That was the real practice, the part where you actually have to do something.
- First, I had to figure out how to even use the darn thing. The stall owner just mumbled something about “soup.” My mom remembered her mom used to slow cook it with chicken.
- So, that’s what I did. I’d take a few slices – they were pretty hard – and rinse them. Then I’d throw them into a pot with some chicken pieces, ginger, and a bit of water.
- The smell was… earthy. Not bad, just different. I let it simmer for a good hour, sometimes more, until the chicken was tender and the Tianma slices were a bit softer.
- I made myself drink a small bowl of this soup, and eat a bit of the chicken and Tianma, maybe three or four times a week. It wasn’t a quick thing. It took effort to prepare it, and I really had to commit to it.
For the first couple of weeks, honestly, I didn’t notice much. I was still getting headaches, still feeling a bit off. I almost gave up, thinking, “See? Told you so.” But I’d already bought the stuff, and I’m stubborn. So, I kept at it. Maybe it was around the third or fourth week, I realized one afternoon that I hadn’t had a headache for a couple of days. Then, a few more days passed. The fogginess also started to feel… less dense.
It wasn’t a miracle cure, not overnight. It was slow. Gradual. But the change was there. The headaches became less frequent, and when they did come, they weren’t as intense. That constant dizzy feeling also eased up quite a bit. I just felt more…clear. It’s hard to explain.
So yeah, that’s my Tianma story. I didn’t read it in some fancy journal. I just tried it, stuck with it, and for me, it seemed to make a difference. It’s not like I’ve thrown out all modern medicine, not at all. But I definitely have a new appreciation for some of these older ways of doing things. It takes patience, that’s for sure. It’s not a quick fix. But sometimes, the slow way is the one that actually gets you there. That’s my experience, plain and simple.
