My plant friends and I - where the wild beings roam
I love myself when I am with plants; when I slow down, listen and emerge myself into nature, into playing and exploring with my plant friends.
I choose to fully immerse myself into befriending and connecting with plants. To be honest I connect more with some of my plant friends than I do with many of my human friends.
We all have relationships to plants - the plants we eat, the morning coffee, the clothes we wear, the plants we water in the garden, the forest we walk in and sometimes the plants that changes our lives. Some relationships are more healthy, conscious and magical than others (like some relationships between people).
Conscious & respectful relationships with plants opens up a whole new world (inside and outside).
The relationships I have with plants have changed my life. It has turned my perspective upside down. It has taken me through my deepest nightmares, into my childlike wonder & joy and back into a true sense of honor, respect and responsibility - a true sense of what it means to be an adult for me.
They teach me everyday to return home to that part of me that I somehow forgot in my search for being a good, perfect grown up.
They guide me back to my inner girl - that curious girl that believes in magic, that people are good and that life is an adventure waiting right outside my door. The girl that believes the earth is a wondrous, mystical place where wild beings roam. Where I can be wild. Where I can be exactly who I am - today, and changed tomorrow. Barefooted in the forest with sunshine and mud in my hair.
They also teach me to open my eyes. Daring to leave my naivety behind and take responsibility for my inner bullshit. To open my eyes to all that this world and I contains - light, dark and gray. That nothing, none of our sins are unforgivable and that non of us are unloveable. As within - so without.
I bow my head in respect for the elder tree when I walk by pretending to take off my imaginary hat. I thank her for all the amazing gifts she brings me and thank her for just being her. In the death of winter when sickness draws near, I drink tea of her medicine berries and remember the taste of summer.
In the spring time when the forest floor is white of “anemoner” (small white flowers) I jump around welcoming the new spring with my screams and howls. I thank them for finally arriving and tell them all how beautiful they look. Some of them sings back with bell-like voices and some of them playfully add remarks that might be mistakenly naughty - if plants had such silly human notions. I do not pluck them without asking permission. Mostly I do not have a need to take any of them away from their forest home. I touch and caress the ones close to me wanting to greet every single flower almost overwhelmed by the possibility of so much fresh goodness.
I lay myself beneath the Birch tree and let go into her silent embrace. I feel myself resisting and sometimes I judge myself for it. Many times I do not even recognise her touch before she is fully around me. So soft. So gentle. So powerful. She hold me while I weep, scream, shake or feel nothingness. She holds me through the night, my inner night, until the first glimpses of the new dawn draws near. She hold me even when I forget that she is there. Singing her sweet lullaby of childhood and soft moss.
I don’t know if I can ever give as much back to my plant friends as they continue to give me. I try every day. Try to walk slow and to listen. Try to ask permission - not taking anything that is not given to me. I try to be patient. Try to share their teachings and to treat the earth and all her children with respect. I give back my gratefulness, my songs, my prayers and my humble thanks.
Sometimes I doubt and wonder if it is all in my head. Maybe it is. Some of it definitely is. However, I would much rather live like a wild child roaming the magical forest than a stressed adult in a gray office.
So I choose to listen. I choose to sing. I choose the forest where the wild beings roam.
By Eva