when plants come to you

Violet, Rose, Patchouli, Myrrh

I’m sitting here writing to you after a deep inhale of Rose essential oil. She’s a favorite of mine.

For many years, I’ve learned about plants through books, what other people have taught me about them, and through my personal experiences from working with them.

Naturally, I’ve shared this information because it feels important to me that we all have a connection to the medicine of plants. For the last 10+ years I’ve been teaching people about essential oils and how to work with them, through classes and workshops, podcasts, videos, and other online content (often focusing on lists of their benefits, properties, historical uses, etc).

In the plant medicine course I’m currently immersed in, I’m being reminded how we can also connect directly with plants through quiet, deep listening. Through understanding the spirit of the plant and connecting with the energy of the plant.

This is available to all of us, and when connecting this way our understanding can become very personal, beyond what we learned in a book about it. Not that learning about a plant in a book isn’t important, but for a lot of us it may be a new idea to consider meditating with a plant to understand it more.

I’ve always said to the community of essential oil students learning with me, that each of our personal experiences with a particular oil is important to pay attention to, along with what we read in a book or hear at a class from someone else.

If you’re someone who’s already drawn to plants through gardening, being in nature, or working with essential oils, you’ll likely feel kindred to these words from Robin Wall Kimmerer in Braiding Sweetgrass.

"Our indigenous herbalists say to pay attention when plants come to you; they're bringing you something you need to learn." ― Robin Wall Kimmerer, Braiding Sweetgrass

Plants have brought me so many things to learn… and this entry comes from my personal experiences as I’ve developed relationships with them.

The plants I’m writing about now, are a few that have been coming to me throughout my life, and especially recently… Violet, Rose, Patchouli, Myrrh.

As I was planning to share about each of them, I naturally started to write in a way that spoke to the plants. It actually felt as if I was speaking with them, and I smiled as the words came forth.

I hope you feel their loving presence and wisdom too. May this inspire your own connection with plants as they come to you, with something you need to learn.

Blessings…

Violet

You remind me of my grandfather who painted the walls of my bedroom in my favorite childhood color. Purple. You were blooming when I sat on the front porch at the Forest & Flowers Retreat House and heard "flowers," sensing the vision here for the first time. I collected your dainty purple blooms that covered the grass last spring. It's like you arrive for my birthday every April. I adore your sweet smell and the way you've alchemized with rose water and witch hazel in the facial toner infusion I made, that I'm still enjoying nearly a year later. You emerged in the 13 Holy Nights with the energy of the inner child, innocence, truth, and joyful adventure. I'll be cultivating more varieties of you next month to plant out next to your wild sisters in May. Oh, the sweet story continues.

Rose

I've always loved your soft floral aroma. Ever since doTERRA began offering you up in a bottle, I've gratefully rolled your fragrance and beauty onto my skin. We meet almost daily. For many months you wanted to touch my third eye. Then my heart. Then my neck. I love how you balance the fire of my Pitta nature. How you settle my nervous system and soften the tension in my mind. I have several varieties in your family to plant at Forest & Flowers Retreat this spring. The bed is ready. I expect the bareroots to arrive in April, and get tucked in as the Violets emerge from the soil and their winter sleep. They say you're hard to grow, but I think it’s an unfair reputation. Let's co-create beauty here and bring more roses to the Pennsylvania woodland.

P.S. If you could, please tell the deer to focus their nibbling on the wild multiflora rose varieties in the woods. I have a fence ready just in case…

Photo by Caroline Sterr

Patchouli

My old friend. You were hidden and forgotten in my oil drawer for so long, until one day you showed up with my friend C when we met for a hike. Oh the reunion! You've touched something in me, and I think it may be connected to your grounding aroma, and the way you move energy from my head to my feet. Into the earth. My head needs a rest, and you've helped me notice where to be fully present in my physical body. You stabilize and balance my senses. A drop in my hands with a deep inhale, and even deeper exhale has been our simple greeting. Thank you for your peaceful presence and reaquainting me with the earth beneath my feet.

Myrrh

Oh myrrh, my skin. It's been so dry this winter. I finally added your thick resin to a roller with fractionated coconut oil so I can apply you to my skin with more ease (and consistency). In the bathroom, next to Rose, for my chapped lips, and my dry face and hands. My gums wanted your medicine too. In a dropper you went, with olive oil. I've gotten used to the slightly sappy taste you give when I apply a couple drops to my gums each night. Your deep aroma feels ancient. Like a loving mother. Thank you. Your resin flows, and in my body this wisdom and regeneration feels like it’s carried into my cells like water. Thank you.

---

Thank you for reading.

If you feel supported by what’s shared here, consider becoming a subscriber. You can also leave your thoughts in the comments, share this entry with someone, or give them a subscription to the natyrë journal as a gift.