What the Flowers Said. And Why I said Yes.

Welcome!  This is the first post. 

Blog updates will document progress as it happens.

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In my twenties, I lived on a persimmon farm, far from where I was born.

On days when I didn’t feel well, and there were many back then, I’d wander outside into the blazing daylight, spread a blanket, and lie down in the lush grass between rows of organic trees.  This was a restorative place for me.

My face close to the ground, I would stare silently at the miniature world of soil level.  Blades of grass were tall, backlit an intense green against the sky, and if I held my eyes still enough on one singular point of dirt, I could see the tiny life of ants, beetles, and no-see-um bugs moving about their daily chores in my periphery.

One day, in a particularly difficult bout of belly pain, I went to my orchard ground. I lay there, wishing the pain to soak into the ground and leave my body, and the associated defeat and punishment and shame and anger and isolation that went with it from almost two decades of suffering with no successful help.  I felt myself diffuse.  I prayed, asking for help.

And then I felt it.   A disturbance through my haze… and it was coming from… over there!  A little fuzzy wiggle of energy a few inches in front of my face, just beyond the edge of the blanket.

Tired, and wondering, I looked for the concentrated energy.

I passed over a tiny blue flower tucked in the grass, so small, I must have stepped on dozens of them hundreds of times when walking and mowing.

It’s energy wiggled and fluffed again, calling my attention. I found the flower.  Focused. This must be it.

“Be love.”  It said, in a wee soft voice inside my head.

I thought I was crazy.

“Be love.” It said again.

Did that flower really just say that?

I closed my eyes, after studying the exact shade of cornflower blue, with tiny white streaks radiating out of its dark center.  I could feel the image of it in my heart, larger than life, occupying space in there.  It lifted my heaviness.

The message made sense.  In my state of suffering and disconnect and despair, it was important to remember that love sits at the heart of creation, not fear.  And I was a part of that. (Remember?)

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At that time in my life I was immersed in an intensive spiritual training in which I was learning that human bodies weren’t the only forms on the planet that had consciousness inside them.  A far cry from the spiritual roots of my youth, it was astonishing to discover this.  It was the first time I had heard a plant talk.  I had discovered the flower people.

Now before you decide I belong in the Looney Bin, let me assure you, there’s presidence for this.  I am not equal to the legends! but stories are told of people who were able, through their close relationship to Spirit, to receive messages from the plants and be instructed in their uses, even told where to find them in an area.  As prehistoric graves evidenced, papyrus written formulas recorded, and folk healing lineages taught through the generations, the plants that were friendly to man were always there, somewhere, for the healing.  Legend shows a reason why.  Learning to connect to them was the task.   

Is this odd to consider in 2018?

If we think so, it’s because we are disconnected from the reality of caring for our body the way our ancestors did…  with real food, sunlight, physical activity, a spiritual framework, right relationships, and plant healing.  For all of this, it takes both speaker and listener…  of the body, of our spiritual heart, of the plants.

Back to my story.

Drawn to understand and deepen, I persued herbalism training. This led me back outdoors with a purpose beyond emptying my mind and troubles, and opened up reconnecting with what is natural ‘human animal’ life.

I discovered flower essences and began to use them regularly on myself, and later on in my work.  I’ve seen personally and clinically how a well made essence can immediately change and move a human energy field and shift emotions and fundamental patterns for the better.

And so, I learned how to make them.

*

Recently I moved back to where I was born.

Curious about the plant life here, I went with a dear friend on a boat tour of swampy lake Martin.

As the engine softly gurgled and puttered us through the waters surrounding tall cypress and tupelo trees, near sunning gators and posing snake birds, and below drapes of silver grey spanish moss, I would now and then hear and feel another intense hello, and look around for the plant calling out.  Water hyacinth and others were there, scattered about the lake, glowing up my inner radar, asking to be made into energetic medicine.

There are so many people now, one said.  Their imbalance gives us imbalance.  Help us help.

I heard this and was overcome.

I understood the dire situation we are in environmentally.  My naturalist training had really driven this home.

And personally, I felt my sadness of being so isolated from nature most my life, and my joy in reconnecting. The soil of this southern swath of land fed my mother, who then wove and fed me.  My minerals are these minerals.  There’s a resonance between us.  It’s a hard thing to describe, this place we come from, and how we are connected.  The tug goes deep.

What else could I do?

I said Yes.

*

And so, this project is the exploration of the plant people of my homeland:  of the bayou, pine forests, meadows, and bay gall bogs. Some native, some transplants that stayed to became part of the green gumbo.  While as a child I was unable to reach them, now as an adult I am able to go to them…  with wonder, as well as a plant identification book.  That’s important:  our spirit is anchored in matter; grounded awareness enables spiritual healing.

The project arrived in an avalanche inspiration as I drove home over Henderson Swamp last Fall.  It was the answer to my question, how would I help?

In a rush of sudden information, I realized I would start a flower essence project of the flowers of my homeland. Not to make and sell them, but as a way to deepen my own connection with the land, do my part to their request, build a body of information about what they hold and provide for us in energetic healing, and carry the thread of this knowing forward.  As others are involved, it’s my hope they get the deepening connection and benefit too!

This is ambitious, and I may not be the most qualified. I’m doing it anyway. 

As one of my mentors once said: If something needs doing,  and there’s no one else there who can, and you know how, it’s up to you. So do it in a good way.

So.

Here we go!

(I may end up working on this the rest of my life . . .)

Thank you for reading; and this time spent remembering your connection to the natural world of  healing plants.

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Learn how to be a part of this healing project…  click here for info

 

 

 

All photos, text, illustrations copyright 2018 Megan Assaf

 

A Louisiana Flower Essence Project and it’s materials are not intended to diagnose, treat, cure, or prevent any disease. All material on this website is provided for informational purposes only.  Always seek the advice of your physician or another qualified healthcare provider. 

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