Forging Relationships With Plants: Why it Will Make You a Better Human
Does matter birth consciousness, or does consciousness arise first, manifesting all the textures and details of this phenomenal world of sensation we find ourselves in? Where does consciousness begin, and where does it end? Are the boundaries of perception hardwired within the skull of the vertebrate? Is thought a solitary (somewhat lonely) activity, or is there a universal wellspring of objective Truth which all beings tap into? These questions have been begged by humans since time immemorial. The modern advances of science and technology have taken us far, and yet something essential is lacking with these things alone. It seems that if we wish to live a wholistically fulfilling life, the clever intellect and innovations of man can only take us so far.
Until relatively recently, animism was a commonly held notion (the belief that all natural phenomena have a distinct soul or spiritual essence). Over time, the scientific method was standardized, and materialism (the notion that nothing exists except the material world) took hold. Intellectually driven reductionist models mechanized the movements of life, and the whole became dissolved (or de-volved) into parts. In the pursuit to refine nature, man degraded it. Despite the advances of science and technology, nature is seen as inert in our current model; dead pieces which can be extracted and manipulated to bend to the will of man. Amidst this milieu, the healer emerges.
What is Consciousness?
The herbalist is the intermediary between the animal and vegetable worlds, an alchemical actor in a dynamic play of light and shadow, real and imaginal, unhealthy and balanced. As an act of transformation, the plants move through the practitioner, who like a prism shapes and forms the application of the medicine to each patient individually. However, the path of health and wellness is paved by much more than alleviation of physiological symptoms. Acute symptoms and injury bring the patient to the healer, yet much more is involved below the surface. To think like an herbalist, thought must move from the linear ordered processes of the brain, and into the realm of the heart.
The gut, the heart and the brain are the largest neural networks in the body, and they are also the three primary seats of consciousness. Each has a unique way of knowing. The gut sits rooted in survival instincts, holding our baseline “animal” needs and desires. The brain is the intellectual control center, celebrated as the master hard drive of consciousness, able to “think” its way out of anything (or so it believes). The heart is the place of honest awareness, of communication, inter-relatedness, and intuition. Observing through the heart, we derive meaning in our lives. It is here in this realm where our plant friends communicate with us, through feeling. We tune in, encountering the world experientially, and know intuitively the heartbeat of the rhythms of nature. We open up to listen, and in doing so connect to our own inner nature.
The heart can perceive the surrounding environment with a greater precision than the brain. Perceiving with heart intuition, we find similarity, harmony, and empathy. We may also feel aversion, sadness, longing or loathing. Some plants are obvious allies, easing their way into the garden to make themselves at home like an old familiar friend. Some plants bother and nag us at the edges of our neatly arranged garden, cluttering up our pretty idea of what goes where. If we have enough grace, we find that in time these are often some of our greatest teachers and allies. We know that nettle and poison ivy or poison oak are guardians of edges and thresholds, offering protection from the harms of industry in areas that are being developed too fast. If we sit with these plants, they may give us feelings of strength, purpose, goodwill and service. Or, we may feel threatened, uneasy, or unwelcomed, depending on what intent we bring with us.
To get to know a plant, it begins with a dialogue, and that requires a language: the language of the heart. Each of us can do this, and like any practice it is refined over time. To connect to the vegetable world, we must let our guard down in order to open up. The plants want to share with us their wisdom and offer their assistance. Over time, trust builds and relationships are forged, and there is a level of intimacy and vulnerability. This bond between the herbalist and their medicinal allies allows for a free flow of communication of information and wisdom. The more sensitive the practitioner, along with the trust and honesty of the patient, the deeper and more profound the result of the work.
In order to tune in, many practices are applied to cleanse the “doors of perception” to borrow Aldous Huxley’s famous phrase. “Non-ordinary” states of consciousness can be achieved through ritual drumming, ingestion of psychotropic plants, fasting, or plant diets. A plant diet allows for fuller connection and dialogue, through the reduction of outer stimuli. Eliminating certain foods, intoxicating substances and toxins for a minimum of several days, along with the regular ingestion of a specific plant (i.e. tea) allows for clearer channels or lenses through which to view, perceive or feel. Distractions in the form of sensation are limited, and the wisdom and messages of the plant seep through. Asking permission through prayer, ceremony, ritual, and offerings, we become attuned to the secrets that are whispered in the breeze, the tears that come with rain, and the warm embrace of sunshine. The earth produces many teachers who come in many forms. Our organic relatives are no more or less valid than we are. If we remain humble, and sensitive, we feel their presence, and we begin to lift the veils which keep the buzzing world chattering over the quiet stillness of our hearts.
