I walk through the woods searching for a good place to harvest Devil’s Club, Oplopanax horridum. I investigate the root connections looking for a spot where the stems have grown tall and fallen over making new root junctions. If you can find a mature root in between two well-rooted nodes, you can take the central piece while doing minimal harm to the above-ground portions of the plant.
I make prayers and offerings and ask for permission to harvest. As I am cleaning and clipping the roots I’ve removed from the stand, I have a sense that something is not right. I know that something is going to happen. All of my senses activate. I move into a state of complete alertness. Devil’s Club has been teaching me many things about protecting my boundaries and about having a keen awareness of my surroundings. When I am with him I am able to work with a 360 degree view sonically, energetically, and visually, and though I feel strongly that something or someone is near, I am not able to hone in on just what it is that is attracting my attention. I just know that something is up. (more…)
During the plant meditation last night I experienced the presence of Cottonwood as an unshakeable, deeply grounded, completely firm, and noble being. I was immersed in a holy silence far removed from any thought or concern. I was aware of my body in that I felt my entire being becoming more and more solid–a heaviness that tuned me into the feeling of being a very large tree.
Working with plants on a spiritual level is a revolutionary act. In my mind and heart I perceive the fundamental disharmony of Western society to be the disconnect from the spiritual aspects of life. Many of us feel like we don’t belong on this planet or don’t deserve to be alive. As if we were parasites on the earth; taking but not giving back. Perhaps we feel guilty about the way this land was stolen or the way the original inhabitants of the land were treated. Some of my students are very hesitant to harvest herbs. They think they have nothing to offer in return. This attitude is certainly a better place to start than the thought form of “whatever is out there is mine for the taking,” but both of these perspectives arise from the same root—a feeling of alienation. Only after we reestablish a relationship with the lands in which we live will we feel a sense of belonging. Only then will we stop destroying ourselves and our planet. 
The Cascadia bio-region in the Northwestern part of the United States is blessed with a wide variety of medicinal plants growing in many diverse habitats. Huge stands of Oregon Grape cover the deep forest floor. Juniper dots the high desert lands where Sagebrush dominates. Sea Watch Angelica clings to coastal bluffs. Pipsissewa and Goldthread inhabit the pristine temperate forest while the lands scarred by human progress are home to St. John’s Wort and Plantain. Western Redcedar towers above, overlooking it all, Yarrow makes itself home in all zones, morphing from lush green at the coast to three-inch tall, grayish-green, barely-leaved stalks at timberline, and the mushrooms connect it all via underground mycelial networks. 