Even though I was raised in the rural farmland of Wisconsin, it took moving to New York City to discover my relationship to plant life. Surrounded by forests and cattle fields, I never questioned my connection with Earth. The vibrancy, love, and wisdom of nature was my basic experience of the world.
When I arrived in the hustle of Manhattan, I was instantly swept into the wave of activity that surges through this city. But, as the exoticness faded and I began to create my life within the constant barrage of human motion, plants became my touchstones to the natural world and profound teachers of the deeper connections we all share.
It began with a lovely Kalanchoe. When I arrived home with it, I sat in the darkness of my tiny room and honored its presence in my life. The plant communicated that it was here to ground and support my energy, and I affirmed my responsibility to love and care for it. I called upon the devas responsible for the Kalanchoe's creation and affirmed that it vibrate with highest potential and grow into its deepest expression of health and vitality.
Soon after, all the Kalanchoe's tiny orange flowers died. The top leaves withered and branches began to slump. I panicked and asked what was happening. "This is a process of re-creation. This plant must shed the energy of its previous creation in order to fully grow into its original potential," I heard from the devas. Of course, my mind was quite skeptical. How could a plant that looked seemingly healthy need to go through this process? I was absolutely forbidden to pull off any of the withering leaves. Whenever anxious fingers would try to "fix" anything on the plant, there was a resounding "NO! Leave me be!" so animate that I quickly withdrew. I nervously claimed my role as witness.
In the following weeks I saw the Kalanchoe metamorphose. When I bought it, the plant was a pleasant, healthy little being, but now it was bursting with a wild power and vigor. Where leaves had wilted, new growth sprouted forth like buds shooting from the soil after a long winter. I had to put the plant into a new pot soon after buying it as it was rapidly growing out of its old one. Shockingly, where the leaves and branches had naturally fallen off were the areas that the strongest, healthiest growth was taking place. In its larger pot the plant easily grew three times its original size. It took on an exotic, expanded beauty, covered with shiny, deep green leaves and branches teeming with sprouts.
Months later, as the plant continued its radiant growth, I was journeying through a healing crisis. My ego protections and personal securities were being uprooted, and it was difficult to feel grounded in the middle of this transition. I was feeling especially assaulted by my mind one day, struggling to stop the constant battery of an ego terrified to let go. I felt truly powerless and didn't know where to turn to release the whirlwind inside. "Go to the plant," I heard clearly above the banter.
I sat in front of the Kalanchoe with my eyes closed. Energy like a cool mountain stream washed through me. The image of the plant resting inside my skull filled my mind's eye and peace overtook me. The plant faded into the image of a snow-capped mountain, than a pink meadow flower, and the three images merged into one. I realized that even this Kalanchoe in a New York City apartment was inherently linked to all of nature.
I was then led to the image of a majestic tree taking root within my body, with all seven chakras sparkling jewels whirling within the trunk and branches. It was surrounded by a great crystal dome, vibrating with tremendous love and truth. "This is the tree of life. It lives within you. Go forth with it today," was whispered within me. I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. The image of the tree glowing with life within me was so overpowering that my mind was silenced. I felt bathed in loving, clean energy as if I were standing on a mountain top.
As I gathered my belongings and walked to the subway, I saw my body as the straight, strong, radiant tree. No matter how I moved, it retained its majestic stature. The image stayed with me throughout the day. I experienced deep peace, self-love, and a knowing that all was well. To this day, whenever I feel I am going to fall apart or can't go on to another breath, I remember the tree of life growing through my bones, and I am brought to truth.
The Kalanchoe expressed that even when we feel completely disconnected from anything sacred or holy, it resides with us always. We are the children of earth in a breath-taking, awe-inspiring sense, grander than we have allowed ourselves to know. Just as the potted plant in my apartment is of the same material as a redwood tree in California, each individual is of the same divine material as the earth. When we turn away from the earth, we stop growing. We become locked in the illusions of the mundane and shut ourselves down to the richness of our original roots.
If we cannot return to the earth for our answers, than where can we go? We are standing within the power to regenerate ourselves into who we were meant to be, and the Earth is waiting for us to request its assistance.
Just as the Kalanchoe needed to shed its previous energy to take on its full potential, so must we let go of our old ideas about ourselves. Nature is a generous teacher that asks only for our receptivity. When we open our hearts to the seemingly simplest of Earth's creations, the Mother brings her basket of wonder right to our door. It is then we exhale into deeper expression and claim the wild, radiant, unencumbered power that makes us daughters of the Earth.
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Letter to the Author:
Ivy Angelina at ivyangelina@hotmail.com