Sunset. Grandmother Aspens stand in stillness as dusk settles in. Nuthatch is done foraging for the day and Hawk finally leaves his perch in the old Pine Tree, where he sat for hours watching the pond, waiting for dinner. I sit nearby, witnessing ducks fly in and fly out of the water as dragonflies flit about cattails. When I finally depart for my own dinner I encounter a momma Deer walking through the meadow with her Fawn, golden spots starting to fade to brown.

There are many Beings to connect with in the forest if one is in open awareness with Nature. A few years ago I began offering The Inner Forest Medicine Journey as a continuation of Medicine At Our Feet Herbal Apprenticeship. This offering was a response to what I was witnessing in my groups…that the plants called us together and the deeper healing occurs.

What I think was a surprise to many was that the healing occurring wasn’t necessarily in the physical realm. Yes, students learned to heal a wound with Yarrow and learned how to calm a wired nervous system with Lemon Balm, but the healing that may have been unexpected was in the psycho-spiritual realm and a deepening connection to Soul.

The plants opened the doors of perception and my students were walking through and I felt a response-ability to offer a map of the terrain.

Something that has been all but lost in our culture is a rite of passage, yet our indigenous soul knows this as a longing in our bones. Just as birds offer their medicine of song to call in the morning and plants offer their gifts of healing, beauty and food, we each are born with medicine for our community, Earth and All Beings…only we have to “remember to remember'' as wise ones have said.

In The Inner Forest Medicine Journey, the Rite of Passage I am most passionate about is, supporting individuals in the passage from self to Self…self is the one who is focused on so called egoic concerns, wants and aversions, while Self is aligned with Soul and our ecological place in the family of All Beings.

“As we walk the soul path and gather medicine from the heart of Nature, it begins to sprout and grow within us into a living inner forest where we ourselves become the medicine.” (adapted from Sajah Popham, Evolutionary Herbalism).

Following the rhythm of a traditional rite of passage, the Inner Forest Journey starts with the Severance phase. From November to May we work with shining a light of awareness on the patterns, distractions, conditioning and stories that keep the self small and within a shroud of limiting beliefs.

Then in June we engage in the Threshold phase which spans a week and includes four nights and days in Solitude with Nature. Here one opens to Mystery and everything that happens during the solo has meaning.

The Reincorporation phase, from July to October, focuses on understanding what happened during one’s solo and integrating the medicine one has received. This is a crucial part of the rite of passage as one returns from the threshold as an initiated adult, and will need support, as the world they left behind hasn’t changed…and they have.

In a recent essay by Robin Wall Kimmerer, she asks: “What does the Earth ask of us?” From an indigenous perspective of Belonging the response is: “To meet our responsibilities and to give our gifts.” We can be Medicine for the Earth and a rite of passage awakens us to the gifts we came into this lifetime bearing but have forgotten.

Owl is calling in the Night, the crescent moon is becoming brighter and the first stars are shining, from oh so far away. There is a bit of a breeze now, quaking the aspen leaves and crickets are singing their eternal song. Earth is calling us to remember our True Nature…can we hear the call?

The Gift

by Nicole Tomlin - Medicine At Our Feet Apprentice 2022

I have taken a lot of classes over the years. I am a self-identified learner, and have been tempted by almost every subject, objective, and outcome there is. So naturally I signed-up for the apprenticeship offered by Constance, despite the novice status of my plant knowledge. I was excited to learn the names, learn what they could do for me, and what remedies they could cure. But as the apprenticeship has gone on, something profound has happened within the context of the class that was wholly unexpected.

While vast amounts of knowledge has been transferred from teacher to student, my ability to point out Echinacea, St. John’s wart, Yarrow is a testament to this, and so is my use of Mallow, Comfrey to soothe aches and pains- but I must say my capacity for relationship has changed the most.

The apprenticeship has allowed me the privilege of spending time with people who love plants, the earth and reciprocity. We have been generous with our stories and our knowledge, and we have practiced gratitude with every plant we’ve taken to help us heal. This healing comes in different ways. Sometimes it is physical. But more importantly it is something else. This something else has been written about by far greater scholars than I, and yet I still hope to understand why it is life changing to sit quietly by Nettles for as little as an afternoon. A friend of mine once said while asked what healing is, said wisely: “healing is two beings in relationship being present together.” From this, I have learned plants are beings. Sitting together is the presence. Relationship is the gift.

The apprenticeship has been difficult at times, as are all things that demand expansion. It is often easier to memorize than to experience, so we have all struggled against the curriculum. Constance has patiently redirected us away from names, Latin or otherwise, into feeling, over and over I suspect, in hopes that one day our trust in the relationship with plants will guide us entirely. This guidance is still difficult to hear, I have a lot left to feel. But Constance assures us our individual relationships with the plants we find will lead us into our hearts while sitting in the dirt.

Nicole's adopted Motherwort plant looking out her apartment window in SLC.

As I walk through nature in my urban setting I stop more and more often and look out at the plants along the sidewalks, planters or neighborhood streets. I can’t help but smile and now I listen. But I am not listening for things that would “help” me, instead I am listening because listening is in and of itself a gift. The delight in the relationship has caused me to feel that: something else There is no road, trail or even path for this journey with plants-- instead a need for trust in that something else is the way and the gift.

Thank you for my teacher, for my fellow apprenti, and for the plants that are epically patient and always funny.