plant magic in times of sadness
Bloodroot blooming in the forest
I was sad last week.
Early in the week, we received news of a tragic loss in the lives of dear friends. Amid our grief, a young man and a child were killed by police, as the trial of a man killed by police continues on. Eight people were killed in a shooting at a FedEx warehouse. These instances of violence exist within a well-established pattern, a pattern that there is little hope of ending soon. Grief is compounded by despair. Amid this grief and despair, an elder in the herbal community published an inflammatory and extremely divisive blog post that was hurtful and harmful. It was a sad week indeed.
When personal sadness is compounded by sadness in the wider community, well, that's a lot to sit with.
Last week I did the absolute minimum needed to run my business, I took life very slowly, and I turned to the plants. I always turn to the plants.
I talk so much about the magic & medicine that the plants have to offer, but I don't always go into specifics (that's what my classes are for, I suppose). I wanted to sit down and write to you about the sadness in the world, because I bet you're feeling it, too. And if you're not feeling it right now, then I'm certain there will be other times in your life when sadness is all around you, and you're steeped in the feels.
But, my friend, it can be hard to think of something useful to say about sadness. It is here to be felt. It must be felt. When we can, we work to prevent unnecessary sadness from occurring. We offer comfort to those grieving the most acutely, and we seek out glimpses of beauty amid it all. That's really all we can do.
I decided that, being a teacher, the most useful thing to do would be to show you the ways that I turned to plants for support while I was dwelling in sadness.
This is how plant magic supported me while I was sad:
Teas & Potions
Rose petals, rose geranium, cacao, hawthorn berries, mimosa, lemon verbena, goldenrod, spearmint, tulsi -- teas and elixirs of heart-and-happiness supporting herbs all week, constantly. I even concocted a new, simple favorite that I have deemed incredibly comforting: dried milky oats, rose petals, and a touch of rose geranium leaves, powdered together and infused for 30 minutes. So soothing.
These medicines will help you -- let them.
Making a care package
The hardest thing when someone is grieving is that words are never enough. You don't know what to say, and you know that nothing you say is adequate. While it's still important to say something, anything, you wish there was more you could do... and as a plant magician/ herbalist, there is. I made a care package for our friends that was filled with comforting teas, potions, steams, and other items to support them in their grief. Herbs can't take grief away, but grief is a journey that is undertaken with pain & courage. Herbs can support a person along that journey. Will this care package comfort our friends? I hope so. Did it comfort me to make it? Certainly.
Plant magic & medicine is a way to take action -- to do something -- when you don't know what else to do.
Time with the Spring Ephemerals
"Spending time in nature" is a piece of advice that's so over-given, so obviously-helpful-but-when-do-you-do-it, that it's almost cliché and easy to ignore, or to skim past. Well, this might be cliché, and you might choose to skim past it, but I spent so much time in the forest this week, and this is how it helped me:
Spring Ephemerals (the plants that live their whole life cycle in spring and then lie dormant for the rest of the year; pictures below) are beautiful. Seeing them is seeing glimpses of fleeting beauty in our imperfect world. Beauty brings hope, meaning, and comfort.
Plants make me feel held. Being outside and knowing their names, imagining their relationships with gnomes and insects and salamanders give me a sense of belonging and make me feel that I'm part of a web that's so much larger than myself. This is infinitely comforting.
Plants give me permission to be slow. Or, rather, they remind me that I don't need permission to be slow, that being slow sometimes is natural, that we're all moving in cycles.
Plant Magic helped me craft a business that supports me
I've run Locust Light for 6 years. But it wasn't until I began to work with plant magic to re-design my business (like, literally channeling from and connecting with plants to get guidance and insight) in year 4 that my business shifted toward something that supported me as much as I supported it. These days, plant magic is completely interwoven in my business.
Working with plant magic has helped me to craft a business that allows me to rest when I need to, to take naps and cry when I need to, to be slow when I need to. My business also gave me a bit of lovely interaction with the HHA apprentices (love y'all) and time spent filming for my Make it Happen program and The Locust Light Show, all of which help to refill my heartspace.
This is what it looks like be supported by my business.
At the end of the week, I spent the day with my sister at a bath house & sauna, relaxing and talking about wedding plans. I came home and took a shower, using an energetically clearing sugar scrub that we make in Ritual & Bath. I moisturized with herb-infused oil, and I felt renewed.
All of the things that made me sad are still existing in the world. They have not gone away. But, for me in my small existence, I have felt them, given them my heartspace and energy. I have felt them for my sake, and I have felt them for their sake. And, like the plants, I can now cycle on to different ways of being. I can cycle into preventing future sadnesses (e.g. activism), comforting those who are grieving, or teaching, which is my life's work.
Because I felt through my sadness, I can now move on. Because the plants held me last week, I can move into this week feeling refreshed, hopeful, and energized.
I know that there will be more sadness in the future. And I know that the plants will be here to hold me when it comes.
If you are feeling sadness right now, I encourage you to turn to plants for comfort. They are there -- you just need to reach out.
And if you're not feeling sadness right now, then keep this email in your pocket for when you need it ;)
Today, I'm sending you a cup of Rose and Cardamom tea, wrapping you in my most comfy sweater, and leaving you with a hug.
yours in magic,
Amanda
Rue Anemone
Dutchman’s Breeches