Roots in the Air by Sara Wright

I am a plant woman, that is a woman who has an intimate relationship with plants. As an ecofeminist writer I believe that women and plants have a ‘natural’ connection to one another. We see this mythologically as women turn into trees, hold ceremonies under trees, listen to them for wisdom, take comfort from them in distress.

Why do we look to the stars for direction and ignore the urgent messages about interspecies communication that trees and plants convey to us here on earth?

I think this is a very important question to be asking when our planet is facing ecological collapse.

What follows is one woman’s story.

In the last week I have had astonishing  experiences with my indoor passionflowers that have left me even more convinced of how critical it is to share my earthbound stories with believers and non -believers alike.

Last night around seven I emailed a woman about my recent full moon experience  with plants. As I repeated my tale one of my passionflowers began to swing back and forth in the air wildly. When I sensed something, I looked up at the vine and was stunned to see this plant moving back at such speed that it was like watching an invisible person jump rope. Mesmerized, I lost time and when I collected my senses, I leapt to my feet to take a video of this strange behavior. I only caught the last of her movement before the plant became still. When this sort of thing occurs, it takes me a few minutes to process the event. Meanwhile I  checked the room for breezes of some kind that simply didn’t exist.

The context stood out like a beacon in the night. I had been writing about the complexities of plant behavior to a non – believer focusing on how important it was to pay attention to plants and then this passionflower started her dance. I’ll let the reader draw what to me is an obvious conclusion.

I have been growing passionflowers for almost 20 years.  I’ll never forget the first time I watched passionflower tendrils moving towards the light as the sun rose over the horizon in my bedroom. That I could see this  plant movement in human time seemed like a miracle! For the rest of that winter, I created a meditation without thought, just BEING with that plant as she moved across the room.

Theses experience captured my imagination and deepened my respect for every plant on the earth. I started to pay even closer attention to everyone I met! I had so many questions. Of course, the plants would naturally move towards the light seeking the warmth of the sun for photosynthesizing, but what else might be happening?

I held plant/tree questions for years, waiting, watching, asking even more questions believing that these plants would teach me more in their time. Patience is a challenge when one is in relationship with plants and trees whose sense of time is so different from ours.

When I dreamed that I needed to begin to use elderberries to make a tincture to use all year I took the dream seriously and made my own tincture.

Lifetime Dreamers like me pay attention to messages that come through the Night Flow. The only time I went without that tincture was when I was in New Mexico where I became very ill.

A few years ago, I had another dream that I needed to make and use a passionflower tincture to help reduce anxiety. I paid attention, made and continue to use these tinctured leaves.

Most recently bright yellow spikes of Mullein appeared in a dream.

 ‘Mulligens’ my little brother and I used to call these steepled spikey plants with fuzzy sage green leaves –we loved the strange looking plant with ki’s plethora of black seeds.

Immediately looking up Mullein properties (I can’t remember them all) I realized that I needed this plant too to help with a digestive disorder. The problem is that it is winter, so I had no choice except to order a tincture online. I have Mullein on this property so I will make my own concoction next summer. Because I already have a relationship with mullein that stretches back to childhood, I suspect the tincture might work just as well.

I sensed many years ago how important it was to use plants that I already had a relationship with. I now believe, because the plants have taught me, that developing a personal relationship with each plant is critical to its efficacy. Not just for me but for others. I was taught the same truth when I studied with Curanderos in the Amazon many years ago.

But I digress. Plants are amazing! In the winter when my beloved emerald green, pine, and golden field and forest turn dull gray and cracked winter white, I focus my attention on my indoor friends for soul sustenance and assistance. What follows is another teaching plant story.

A couple of years ago a person I believed was a close friend gave me a sedum in a bright yellow pot. You can imagine my distress when almost immediately the sedum began to lose leaves. Having grown the same plant that thrived with such abandon during my years in New Mexico I was baffled and asked the plant what ki wanted me to do. No answer. I repotted the tips but every time I did little roots appeared in the air. I KNEW the plant was telling me something, but I didn’t know what. My general sense of unease grew as time went on with me attempting  to create the ‘right’ conditions while I kept asking the same question of the plant. Eighteen months later a person I believed to be a friend betrayed me. That’s when I finally understood what the plant had been telling me all along by her behavior. This person’s roots weren’t grounded in the earth where they belonged; they hung in thin air.

One year I gave a passionflower cutting to someone who loved plants and animals like me. Five years later the most glorious passionflower that I have ever seen has developed into a huge blossoming plant.  My friend was frustrated when the plant took so long to bloom. I told her then that passionflower was developing her root system, one that would support her for years. When the plant finally started blooming in ki’s second year vine after vine was covered with the most fragrant blue flowers.

Winters are long in western Maine.  As I dream of green shoots of spring crocus rising out of moist earth, I continue to talk with my indoor Plant Elders showering them with attention, love, and a thousand more questions!