Being in the Dark (or my perspective on plant medicine)

MYSTERIES, YES

Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous

to be understood.

How grass can be nourishing in the

mouths of the lambs.

How rivers and stones are forever

in allegiance with gravity

while we ourselves dream of rising.

How two hands touch and the bonds will

never be broken.

How people come, from delight or the

scars of damage,

to the comfort of a poem.

Let me keep my distance, always, from those

who think they have the answers.

Let me keep company always with those who say

“Look!” and laugh in astonishment,

and bow their heads.

Mary Oliver

I love this poem from our beloved Mary Oliver. It resonated with me deeply when I first read it, and it strangely speaks to my perspective on plant medicine.

Not knowing can be a bitter pill to swallow. I like mining the truth of things. Unearthing pearls of wisdom and satisfying my curiosity, or maybe more so remedying my discomfort in not knowing. But, being in the dark is also freeing in a lot of ways.

My way in is through plant medicine. I like decoding how a plant and its biochemical parts mingle with my cells, gently transforming my body, and even strangely, mysteriously becoming it. I want to know how wise, old reishi helps us feel lighthearted, or how bitters often shift the perception we have of ourselves. But, there’s also an inevitable whittling away that happens in analysis. In breaking things down to their parts, studying them and naming them, maybe in an effort to uncover their true nature, I also end up losing sight of their very essence. Unable to see the forest for the trees, I’m left surprisingly dissatisfied with what I see, and what I think I know. So the question then becomes ‘Can I root myself in the uncomfortable truth that there will always be things unknowable to me?  Maybe let the alchemy of life's unfolding comfort and even soften me.

The more I learn about plants and their actions in my body, the more I’m asked to let go. To simply take them in, instead. Have an experience of them, beyond chemical, more intuitive, engaging those finer fibres of my being that are receptive to things beyond logic. In letting go of the need to understand it all, and instead just be, I am able to see with soft eyes and bow my head.