Here is a plant I adore, an object of my creative attention. No, not an object. This is the wild being that I am adoring, the magical plant whose medicine feels to me like quiet, spring-tapping power.
Do you know her? She is rising up, and today on my hike, I thought how foolish we are, to think of medicine as a substance. It’s as if we can only look at the world through the lens of science, now, and have forgotten that real medicine is something else entirely.
I don’t have the words for it, but the blue cohosh knows, and when I ask, “Is it relationship? It feels like that?” and she whispers, “You are close. Now, come closer.”
In this moment shared, between woman and plant, a deeper question arises, a question that takes the hollow shape of a vessel, and her answer fills it, fills me, like water in the body.