Experience of the Wild

For the past six weeks I have been coming here to learn from this forest. There are seven Cedar trees in this area circling a fallen Douglas Fir.  The tree has been dead for many years, consumed by the forest, nearly buried by second growth.  The tree reminds me of the cycles of life, and my place within the whole.  I am amazed at the capacity of these woods to regenerate, to recover from complete desolation.  I know that these woods are but a memory of the great old-growth forests that stood here two hundred years ago, but they are beautiful in their own chaotic way. 


I have been changed by my time coming to this spot in the forest.  Each plant has some different thing to teach me.  The sword ferns, with their arms reaching in the direction of sky, teach me how to relax, how to be fluid.  They superbly embody the principle of pliability.  Watching them, I can feel my rigidity loosen, and my presence relax.  The great tree of this area, Cedar, is fulfilling the archetype of protector, teaching me how to be clear, how to be clean.  The smell of its branches is a clear, ambrosia-like remedy that brings me face to face with the present moment and all I can think is "Yes".


The birds on this land have their own story to tell.  Every few minutes a new voice chirps a new instrument in the symphony above my head.  A sudden alarm call of a bird disturbed by a careless passerby.  Their voices remind me to look beyond my own self, and to listen to each sound in the forest.  It is because of their acute attention to all signs of possible danger that they acheive awareness in the present.  Sometimes, when I sit long enough, I feel I can almost taste this presence, and when I do, there is a meaning to they're words.  It is in these moments that I can stretch my awareness across long distances.  I can hear different voices amongst the chatter, different moods, different species.  In these moments I become elated.


The words that you see above is my attempt to achieve the impossible.  There are few people who are capable of expressing the ineffable sense of wonder that the wild inspires.  Many have tried to portray the essence of such experiences, among them is Thomas Berry.  He wrote, "The communion that comes through these experiences of the wild, where we sense something present and daunting, stunning in its beauty, is beyond comprehension in its reality, but it points to the holy, the sacred."  His words ring a bell of recognition within me because I too have sensed something daunting and stunning that is beyond the realm of comprehension.   

Buhner's Workshop in Portland

This last weekend I attended a workshop entitled Gaia's Mind and the Secrete Teachings of Plants, presented by the acclaimed herbalist and author, Stephen Buhner.   He began his workshop by discussing the bacterial processing of plants.   Stephen explained that bacteria constitutes the underpinnings of life-itself, claiming that neuron-networks are organized anytime a biological system forms.   Even the phenomena of human reasoning is defined by the behavior of bacteria.   Stephen then went on to describe the ecological function of plant intelligences including the psychotropic plants and fungi.  Throughout his entire workshop he detailed and demonstrated his philosophy for the integrity of a healer.  Over-all his workshop was incredibly interesting, and I am excited to pursue more research to discover or disprove the holistic truth of his claims and concepts.

Stephen asserted that 'neuron-networks' are organized any time a biological system forms.  It is still unclear exactly what he means by this, but after having briefly looked into the field of microbiology it is clear that communities of bacteria demonstrate extremely high levels of intelligence.  In the Article entitled “Neural Networks” in Bacteria: Making Connections the Authors refer to this when they write, “Bacteria have more complexity, more organization, and more control than we ever imagined” (Armitage, page 1). Buhner explored bacteria from a theoretical and ecological perspective, drawing upon his own observations and research being done in related fields.   From this point of view, bacteria seems to play an important role in earths history, initiating incredible innovations throughout the evolutionary timeline, exhibiting behavior akin to our own neural networks.

Buhner spoke to the ecological functions of different organisms, shedding light on the cooperation and mutualistic behavior within ecosystems. He said that each plant is essentially a different “pillar of biological organization”, fulfilling a niche, not only within the environment, but also within the spiritual ecology of place.  An example of this he gave was the existence of psychotropic plants and fungi within an ecosystem.  Buhner claimed that wherever these organisms grow, their function is the same—they break patterns of behavior within the keynote species of a forest ecosystem, and facilitate a change in the ecosystem as a whole.   He suggested that the effect of psychotropic organisms remained the same, whether the chemicals were exposed to a human, fox or a variety of grass, the effect remains the same.

Overall the workshop was a phenomenal learning experience.  Not only did I gain many leads to very interesting developments in theory and science, but I gained a better understanding of what it means to be a healer. Buhner said, “As a healer, we must realize the function and teaching potential of any disease”.  In this statement there is an interesting implication for any herbalist.   Our job is not to “fix” a person who is “ill”, rather our job is to understand the causes of a disease.  We might ask, what is this disease attempting to teach an individual.  There were many more gems offered throughout the weekend--too many to share here--and I am thankful to have been present for one of Buhner's final workshops.  As I journey deeper into my flirtation with the wild world, and come to know plants in greater intimacy, I hope to retain the essence of his message, and I hope to walk this path with receptivity, respect, reverence, and great love.

Just one of my heros

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=asw0_DaA85Y

Hawthorn

Early this Autumn, I had the great fortune to encounter a wonderful plant--an ancient tree of great renown wherever it is found.  The name for this tree was none other then Hawthorn, although sometimes referred to as may flower because of the time of its flowering.  The berries, flowers and leaves of this plant have been used throughout ancient times, across many cultures, as a remedy and tonic for the heart.  The branches have been used to bless weddings, battle evil spirits, and--as fable goes--to crown the Christian Lord and Savior.

I began walking towards a large and ripening Hawthorn tree this morning at dawn.  The cold morning air pressed close around me, and the fog impressed upon me a feeling of intimacy.  As I made my way towards an old Hawthorn tree in my neighborhood, I began to drop into the feeling tone of this plant.  When I arrived, the sun had just emerged over the horizon, hidden only by the low lying clouds of the Pacific Northwest and a thick fog.  The birds quieted their song as I approached.  I took a moment of silence to set my intentions and make my prayers to the spirit, essence, and body of Hawthorn.

 My hands began to grow cold, but the attention I gave to the harvesting brought me away from this discomfort.  As I moved from branch to branch, intuitively plucking the largest and brightest berries, I dropped into a timeless zone.  I gradually became aware of the birds joining me in celebration of Hawthorn this morning.  I was suprised by how comfortable they were with me, often flitting in branches only feet from me.  They seemed to regard me as part of the fabric of this morning.  They did not give any alarm call, even though I was far from still.  I felt as though I had established a bond between myself and the Hawthorn tree, and the birds respected this bond.

Throughout the morning, there were two instances when other people walked by.  At their approach all chatter from the birds stopped.  A single alarm call silenced the birds, and the magic of their presence retreated as they hid in the branches of neighboring trees.  As one of the humans walked by, he attempted to ignore my presence altogether, the other greeted me with a curt nod and began a brief conversation about what I was doing with these strange berries.  In both instances I was met with an unpleasant and all to familiar feeling, that of a human-centric worldview.  This is a place where humans are the dominant species, and the magic bird-song is just as ignorable as the incessant sound of traffic.

This gave great contrast to my morning, and I understood something crucial because of it.  I realized that so often we are blind to the diverse relationships between the plants and animals of the forest.  Their is an intrinsic connection amongst all forms of life, and this is something that the creatures of the forest well understand.  The alchemists of medieval times referred to this as "the language of the Birds", and I can see why.  There is a whole world that is rich in intrinsic meaning, and the birds are well versed in its language.  This world lies right outside our human centric universe, and it is a world of magic, of real connection, and of deep meanings.  It is the mythic background of our universe, and this morning, Hawthorn showed me a glimpse into this world. 

The journey was complete only after an hour and a half of harvesting and a few minutes of tincturing.  The whole process felt like minutes.  This morning I give thanks to Hawthorn, I give thanks to the birds, to this life, and truly, I give thanks to this wild and precious Earth.



(Journal entry from mid-October)