Playing with Plants
a childhood dream come to life
Rediscovering a glimmer of something that intrigued me as a child. Following the breadcrumbs along an unexpected trajectory and reflecting on a dream that never got the chance to properly gain traction — until now.
In second grade we learned that Native Americans use plants to make medicine. I remember thinking this was just about the coolest thing I had ever heard. Later that day on the playground, I collected leaves and twigs, placed them in the dirt, and swirled them around with a stick, wondering how to turn this haphazard pile into something with life-saving potential.
I didn’t know it yet, but this moment was a little nudge, pointing me toward what would one day become a much bigger part of my life.
At various points in my childhood I continued to remember this incredible possibility, that nature could provide what we need to heal. I wondered if I could learn to heal with plants, to make medicine the way our ancestors did and like so many around the world still do to this day.
Though my initial delight never left me throughout the years, it remained buried under life’s expectations and obligations, dimming any potential for this fledgling interest to bloom into a more fervent passion. As I graduated college, ready to begin my “serious” career, my childhood interest in plants remained all but forgotten.
But the plants found their way to me, in little whispers and subtle hints, asking for my attention, beckoning me closer.
In my early 20s I stumbled upon Ayurveda while reconnecting with my Indian heritage. This was my first foray into understanding that the herbs and spices in our food add more than flavor; they hold the power to impact our health in tiny everyday ways. Learning this ancient wisdom became a side project, slowly infusing my life with a new approach to well-being.
A few years later I came across a program that allowed participants to design a research project abroad. I remember thinking how amazing it would be to visit indigenous people around the globe, to shine a light on their herbal wisdom and help preserve their plant healing traditions.
At the time I was working in counterterrorism and couldn’t fathom how I would explain to my boss that I wanted to take a year off to study plants in remote parts of the world. I pushed the idea out of my mind, thinking it would be cool for someone but probably didn’t make sense for me.
In my early 30s, I happened upon Asia Suler’s incredible Intuitive Plant Medicine course. This was my introduction to the more spiritual and mystical side of plants, of connecting more deeply to the natural world and remembering how intimately intertwined we are with nature, particularly on an energetic level. Such concepts felt foreign to me at the time, yet are beloved to me now.
This was also a turning point, when I moved away from thinking about plants in the abstract to more intentionally seeking out knowledge to learn. I dabbled here and there, taking a course, attending a virtual conference, listening to podcasts. My interest only grew, though it remained quietly on the side, a hobby and nothing more.
Yet I began fantasizing about spending my days in a garden rather than sitting behind a desk. I pictured waking up and watering the plants, coming into the kitchen and creating medicinal remedies. My actual job, high-pressure and long hours, felt less and less aligned, and the fantasy was what I longed for. But the fantasy didn’t feel grounded in practicality, so it stayed safely relegated to my unspoken dreams.
And then divine intervention of sorts — a hurricane upended my life.
In the span of a few months, I moved across the world, sorted through the damage to my childhood home, left my job then watched the very organization I had just left get dismantled weeks later (there was no going back now), and wondered what I could possibly do next. Things were in turmoil for a long time and nothing seemed clear.
One day I began playing in the kitchen: brewing infusions, crafting oxymels via intuition, formulating custom flower essence blends and gifting them to family and friends. Things I’d learned in books suddenly coming to life before my eyes. Little pockets of time spent immersed in this magical realm I so treasured before returning to the ordinariness of every day.
Playing held a different feel than reading alone. The sensory hands-on experience of it woke something up inside me. Some days it felt like a whole new side of myself was coming into existence; other days felt more like remembering something that was always there yet never had a chance to be properly expressed.
Playing was also just that — a chance to play. To try and experiment, to get creative, to let my inner child lead the way. A sense of fun, previously missing in a way I hadn’t recognized, was present once more. Slowly, this time with the plants became a part of my day, a stabilizing anchor carefree in its simplicity.
Last fall I was writing in my journal and the thought popped into my head: What if I studied herbalism formally? With a teacher and other students who shared my passion?
A quick search revealed a local apothecary was accepting applications. One week later I was enrolled in a clinical herbalism program.
Now my time is spent digging in the dirt, planting flowers, weeding medicinal herbs, harvesting and potting and preparing soil. Learning how plants heal our bodies, going in-depth on organ systems, crafting remedies with precision. I love it.
Even spending hours writing extended profiles on plants, naming their uses and constituents and actions, and I’m utterly enamored, the wonder of a lost era suddenly returning in full force, breathing new life into me. It’s still new and unfamiliar, like I’m a bit out of practice in pursuing a dream in this way, but my curiosity and awe are urging me forward, to take in all there is, to learn with reckless abandon.
These days I feel a mix of childlike joy, inspired by all there is to know, and a strange muted grief that I didn’t walk this path earlier. I keep wondering if I can actually go in this direction for real, make a living playing with plants, while simultaneously regretting that I didn’t try before.
I wonder how many of us receive these little nudges and whispers, so lighthearted and inviting, asking us to explore an interest or possibility, but we turn away because we lack the encouragement or think it’s silly or can’t yet see why it might matter. How many of us knew as children something was meant for us yet allowed life to tell us otherwise? How often have we neglected the breadcrumbs rather than following to see where they lead?
It was always there underneath the surface, this avid interest in plants. I didn’t suppress it exactly; I simply never paid it much attention. It seemed childish and impractical, lacking in any real use for my life. But gradually as I explored this fascination, granting it space to flourish in my psyche, that slow burn of intrigue suddenly and perhaps inevitably exploded into something undeniable, no longer content to stay buried in the background.
I don’t yet know where this love of healing plants will take me. But playing in this way is healing and I’m ready to play.
reflection:
What childhood dream of yours is wanting to come to life?
This is wonderful Sarah. Awareness is everything, always follow the breadcrumbs:-)
May you continue to be curious and may your inner child continue to guide you. 🫶🏽 beautifully written Sarah.