entering the realm of floral devotion
embarking on a year of essence making
I write to you today from a new apartment. I have moved three times so far over the course of the last year and something tells me that this place I now find myself in is temporary too. Perhaps that is a direct result of my perception of the world we currently inhabit. It feels almost laughable to attempt any sort of planning at this moment. Life has never felt more impermanent and endlessly shifting as it does now. I find this both troubling and relieving. Troubling that the life I dream of is out of reach and relieving that I can work to just be present and content with what is directly in front of me. There has always been a massive tension there for me. That tension grows more and more present each day as I try to find the balance between reaching, building, and dreaming towards the future and being here, in this moment, now.
Last week I started Turning Towards The Flower, a five week flower essence* program with one of my favorite teachers, Liz of Sister Spinster. It was my first time “being in class” since last October and it felt good. I was distracted by personal matters, but even in my distracted state it lifted me up to be in that space. I am often happiest when I am learning, especially about the things that interest me most. Liz spoke about many things during class, all of which enlivened me and made me feel a renewed sense for being alive (something I have very much needed for awhile now). I enthusiastically jotted down notes throughout class and as I revisit them today, I continue to feel that sense of renewal and to see how much of what was shared in regard to making flower essences can be applied to the act of everyday living. Essence making is a lot about paying attention, about noticing and observing. It is also about, and requires, reciprocity and offerings. It is about collaboration, dancing, and play.
*For those that might not know, a flower essence is vibrational, energetic medicine and contains zero plant constituents. They are often made by placing flowers in a bowl of water to capture the energy of the flower, then preserved by removing the flower and mixing with a bit of alcohol such as brandy to make it shelf stable. If you’re looking to work with specific plant constituents, then you would likely want to work with a tincture or tea preparation of an herb.
Liz offered up these possible questions to ask ourselves when making an essence: “What is here? How do we include that and celebrate that? How can I be with that?” I find these questions to be so potent, especially given the times we currently find ourselves in. These questions can be so grounding and clarifying, can show us where we’re at and what parts of ourselves and the collective might need tending. In these questions we might find places to lean into or maybe places to pull ourselves back from. I love the curiosity that lives in these questions. Asking these questions isn’t meant to be passive, but rather a way to stay engaged with the swirling world around us.
These are all things that I want to focus on in my everyday life and so, as I focus on developing my essence making practice, it also becomes a mirror for how I engage in my lived experience. Perhaps that is what I love most about working with plants. The way that working with them, being present and devotional to them, reverberates and ripples out beyond my work with them and into the surrounding world. This is just one way I see the plants as being teachers.
Over this last week we were asked to focus on what is emergent around us, to notice what’s arising, to, as Liz said, “get into a habit of observation,” to think about relationship building. On my walks with Dot I try to focus on what is around, to be present with it, to catalogue it in my mind, to make what I see feel acknowledged. I’ve noticed lots of tiny purple flowers. I see them and nod to them as if to say “hello friend, I see you.” I walked past Temple Square and came across a bunch of Lenten-rose aka Helleborus orientalis, a flower I found interesting to be planted on the grounds of the Mormon church. They are stunning and enchanting. I lifted up their drooping blooms as if I was lifting up their chin, turning their face to the sky. I took in their strange beauty. I felt a kinship to them. I feel if I were to embody a flower now, it would be them. I saw my first daffodils this week, bright yellow, like little botanical trumpets announcing spring. I grin when I see them.
Yesterday I forced myself on a long walk up City Creek Canyon. A place I hold dear, but haven’t visited much since my return or since I moved within walking distance to it. Working 40+ hours a week on my feet leaves me beyond exhausted physically and I haven’t had much energy for movement after I’m done with work. But yesterday was a day off. I felt I needed a small adventure. I needed the fresh air, to feel the wind and sun on my face. I needed to walk alongside moving water, to feel its flow. I took my mystery essence (an essence given to everyone participating in Turning Towards the Flower for us all to work with and prove together) and trudged onward. Most everything is still brown, but green grasses are popping up in patches. The horsetail is abundant and flourishing. I say many river birch trees and made plans to visit them often. A couple red-barked and red-vined plants stuck out in their vibrancy, some with many tiny little thorns. I noticed a low growing leafy bush of red and green leaves, leaves that reminded me a bit of rose bush leaves. I sat on rocks and sniffed the wind. I grew tired and found my way back home feeling glad to have mixed up my routine and been out in the world a bit.
A couple months ago I made the decision to pull out of the second year of my herbalism training with Terra Sylva. It was a hard decision and still is, but ultimately I had to be real about my capacity. I simply couldn’t fathom how I could get through a rigorous advanced program and work. Physically, emotionally, and mentally I simply haven’t recovered from last year. I do not know if I will ever bounce back or return to my former self. I do not know if my low capacity stems from all the grief, change, and trauma of last year or from long covid symptoms or from general aging or what. I do not have answers, but all I can do is meet myself in this moment. And it became clear I could not proceed as I had dreamed. Alongside the realization I couldn’t do the advanced second year program, I kept thinking about Liz’s Flowering Round program. I had wanted to take it last year, but there was no way I could’ve been enrolled in two courses. I emailed Liz asking if she’d offer it again next year and she said she wasn’t sure. And so, as I knew I couldn’t do Terra Sylva’s advanced program this year, I felt compelled to enroll in Flowering Round, a year long program working with flower essences. It’s less rigorous and academically minded and more about courting the flowers. Though my rational mind wanted to dub this pivot as some sort of failure, on an intuitive level I knew that this change was aligned. And so I embark on a year long journey into working with flowers. I already feel more alive, more joyful just thinking about it. I’m certain many, many more floral findings and reflections will be shared in the weeks and months to come.
As always, thanks for being here, being a witness.
CURRENTLY
Different things I’ve read, watched, or listened to lately that have stayed with me or feel beneficial to share here.
Operation Olive Branch is a grassroots effort to amplify Palestinian voices and those who are raising funds for food, care, and other basic necessities. They’ve put together a spreadsheet with links to help support those most in need.
Reflecting a lot on the similarities between AIDS and COVID. The ways the virus themselves work, but also the way the CDC and the public have handled/are handling these debilitating viruses.
so excited to embark on this floral journey with you, van! 💝