Silver Leaf Oak
I am an Earth Medicine Apprentice, studying all kinds of magical shamanic and plant-based unravelings with the amazing Julie McIntyre. In my first weekend, we set the tone for a very heart-spaced union, and begin the process of speaking with the consciousness of plants through the electromagnetic pulses of our own hearts. The results were head-spinningly fabulous. And so I was full-on jazzed to take on weekend #2.
We meet about once a month, from April through November – but in between, there’s homework. In the space between weekends 1 and 2, we were asked to convene with our inner children, on a daily basis. I meditated with mine a little bit every day, almost always in a different way. Sometimes it was in the “normal” space of silent meditation, where I would simply call forth that childlike, intuitive, eyes-open angel inside and ask her feeling-based questions. What would make her most happy. What she was feeling right then and there. Sometimes, we would sit with a plant, and she would tell me what the plant itself was feeling – healthy, vibrant, weighted, sickly, etc. She would also tell me the medicinal gifts that plant offered, energetically and tangibly. We had a lot of fun. One night, she declared that for dinner, she wanted broccoli and ice cream. I obliged, and giggled all the way through it. I noticed I wore a lot more pony tails – two, set high up on each side of my head, just like a little girl. I’d look in the mirror and cease to see the aging thirty-something self – the vitality looking back seemed far more ageless.
Weekend #2 started off with a quiet swoosh. One of the apprentices decided to bow out of the experience, so we were left with just four of us total – three students, and teacher Julie. The balance felt perfect, despite our sadness for losing our new friend. The alchemic mix had a delicious, bonded, authentic flavor. We were ready to go big. We started out by sharing our inner child experiences, as well as what plants we meditated with, and the results. Then we discussed the very intriguing notion of safety. Teacher had us close our eyes and *feel* what the following statement brought up within:
“I need you to make me feel safe.”
It was tough for me not to giggle at the sound of that one. I’ve done such a deep dive with the illusive bitch that is safety, I feel a definite intimacy. I’ve called her bluff – she doesn’t exist. And so the notion of someone else requesting that anyone outside of themselves create this non-existent notion – hilarity. In that white-knuckled oh shit kind of way.
Think about it. Safety. What does that really mean to you? And when can you actually, in all integrity, say you’re safe in a relative sense? The world doesn’t have many consistencies, but one is that it is always changing. Everything in flux, nothing to hold onto. Which means you can’t guarantee you won’t get struck by lightning at any moment. You can’t guarantee you won’t wake up with terminal cancer. And you sure as hell can’t guarantee the person sitting across from you won’t suddenly break your heart.
Humans are so funny. We demand this infinite sense of freedom, this staunch God-given right to be independent, individual, wild, untamed, and authentic. At the same time, we want our lovers and our friends and especially our government to “make us feel safe.” That’s an impossible paradox. There is no bubble to live in where the world stops delivering it’s lovely little lessons. And yet we want so badly to have life, minus the danger of death. I stared this down in a glorious Ayahuasca ceremony that just about pushed me over the edge (and dammit if I didn’t run from it – if I knew then. . .) I remember floundering in that infinite darkness, screeching for help, SOMEthing or SOMEone to hold onto, and Lady Aya just said “No. Honey, no. There is nothing. There is no one.” I get it now. All you have is that infinite space within you – it seems to fit everything but safety handles. And the more one surrenders into the idea that there is no way to control our lives – that it’s a contradiction just to think it’s even possible – the more the magic of the Flow really starts to unfold (apparently!). But what a nightmarish lesson that is for most. And if my perceptions are right, it’s a lesson that most of us don’t *really* learn until we die. (If then, even – I’ll have to report back on that one.)
I was thrilled to get a chance to go deeper into this safety lesson, and we had a marvelous discourse about this and related topics. Then we talked about the journey we’d go on Sunday that would defy this sense of safety – a sweat lodge. Oh. That sounded. . .unsafe. Hah.
Later that first day, we ventured out into the wilderness. It was time to connect with nature, to convene with the plants, and to bring back important elements for our sweat lodge ceremony the next day. We hiked up a little path deep into the Gila Wilderness, and found a resting spot for the afternoon. Then Teacher sent us off to find a plant that would embody the first of the four directions we would honor in ceremony – the South side, or the inner child, playful, happy part of us. We were to comb the surrounding area with our inner child, find the plant that spoke to that part of ourselves, sit and meditate with it for a spell, and bring a small piece of it back with us.
My child brought me to a very pretty plant with gorgeous yellow flowers. She was part of the pea family, this plant (pine thermoptus, if I could just spell that) – the bulbs of the flowers very much resembled little pea pods. I felt gloriously happy around her, at first, beaming up a storm in my meditation. But then she took me into a shadow place – my emotions shifted into a space of mild fear and resistance. What is this? I inquired within. Hey girl, why did you bring me here if it’s making me feel a little freaky? My child had an immediate answer – because it makes me happy to feel. Well then, duly noted.
Next up, we were to honor the West direction, and find a plant that spoke to our warrior spirits. I found one very quickly. The Box Elder. What a fierce, challenging, ass-kicking energy it had. As I sat with it, I felt my chest keep thrusting out with strong intention. I felt so courageous and powerful. My third eye itched like mad. I really dug this guy a lot. And if I may add an element of foreshadow, he would be the one to teach me my most profound lesson in the sweat lodge ceremony the next day. Awesome.
The third plant was to embody our elder spirit – the part within that is ancient, wise, timeless. This was for the North direction. I had a hard time finding the perfect plant on this quest – it took me several minutes of searching until I finally spied *it* – holy smoke did it knock me up side the head when I saw it though. A scraggly, leathery, *fabulous* Silver Leaf Oak (see the picture above). Now I didn’t know it was part of the Oak family when I chose it, but I did immediately *see* it’s ancient qualities. Leaves so thick they felt like leather. This one totally looked like a grandma plant to me. And as soon as I sat with her, a poem came to life. I saw a bug walking across one of her leaves and immediately, the verses came. When I returned to Teacher after the meditation with a piece of her in tow, Teacher told me the name of the plant, and we chuckled on how appropriate that was – an Oak as my elder spirit. But of course.
Finally, we set out to find the plant that most connected us to spirit – to honor the East. I became enraptured by a tiny leafy green gem that spread across little sections of the forest floor. As I stared at him, he looked like a veil – the kind that would reveal to me another way to look at “reality”, if I trusted him to take me there. I was totally enchanted. I lay with my face thrust in him for a long while, and I felt ego-less for a spell. Light, airy, protected, joyful. An Ayahuasca song came to life in my mind. The plant told me to use all of my senses, as often as I could, to get into deeper communion with What Is. I had my most powerful meditation of the day, and brought back a piece to show Teacher. It was a Rue, she told me – she suspected at least one of us would choose that plant for the East. And as it turned out, two of us did, and the third almost chose it too. Hundreds of plants in that wilderness, and two of us chose the same one, for the same purpose. I just found that magical.
And so ended our delicious day. Teacher asked us to bring the plants we picked to our ceremony the next day. We were to eat very light the next morning, get there bright and early, and prepare for a big experience. A true sweat lodge ceremony. What on earth what I uncover? Would I cave and need out before each round was done, or could I hang in there and get past my mind? Would I need to feel safe, or could I just trust the big expansive nothingness to guide me through?
Part 2 coming in a day or so 
Leave us hangin’ why don’t you!
I really enjoyed your words on “safety.” Thanks for sharing your insight. It helps me, always.
XO
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