I made my first flower essence in 2018- some violets bathing in a measuring cup of distilled water under the sun. At the time I didn’t really know much about working with flower essences- I had watched the replay of a webinar about them and became interested in the idea of working with the spirit of a flower. A younger me would have been so skeptical, but I was in a chapter of intense grief and loss, and the idea that simply a drop of flower water could shift something inside of me felt real.
At the time I was organizing a free herbal clinic in a harm reduction center in old town eureka, and I gave the essence to one of the volunteers. She came back a few days later, her eyes filled with light. “I don’t know how you did that,” she said, but I took it and a portal opened up in the crown of my head and I felt myself bathe in light. How did you make that happen with just one little bottle?”
At the time I had a hard time believing in my own capacity for creating magic, and of course, even if I have that capacity, it really is channeled through the energy of the plant.
According to Asia Suler of One Willow Apothecaries, Violet flower essence is for appreciating the self and holding the heart through transitions such as breakups. The violet flower is an symbol of mid spring- it makes me think of lush gardens and dewy mornings as winter ends. The deep vibrant purple of violet flowers makes me think about enlightenment, joy, and rising out and above the chains which hold us back. Violets have an affinity for the lymph nodes and the respiratory tract, there is something so calming and soothing to be in their presence.
I didn’t keep the mother of that violet essence, unfortunately, so I look forward to the day I meet another violet flower I can make an essence of.
In these past four years, my practice with flowers have deeply expanded- I’ve created nearly a hundred essences, made dozens of flower essence blends for tarot clients as part of their readings, and done a handful of flower essence case study as part of the plant witch mentorship circle and on patreon.
Over this time, flowers have changed me on such a deep level. And at the same time, not at all. That’s the thing about flowers, they can bring you whatever level of change that you feel ready for. If you aren’t receptive or ready to work with them, they will have a hard time showing themselves to you. But if you are open, they invite in small changes to help you grow.
I sat down to write a poem, in preparation for teaching my first round of Summer Flower Mystery School, to reflect on all I have learned from flowers in the four years of working with and making them.
I learned that magic is real.
I learned that everywhere I go, I have a friend close by.
I learned to be in reciprocity with the earth.
that to love is not to take but to admire soveriegnty
I learned that grief is not scary
that all of my emotions, as vast, expansive, and sometimes as excruciating as they are, have room to exist inside of me.
I learned how to hold my sensitivity, that both laughing and crying means that I’m real.
I learned that death and rebirth can happen over and over again.
I learned that ego and individualism are constructs which separate humans from the natural world.
I learned that I am the natural world.
I learned that some years you won’t bloom, that sorrow and tears are life sustaining and can be used to create and uphold beauty.
I learned to protect my energy, to choose wisely who I share it with.
I learned that everyone I’ve ever been still exists inside of me.
I learned that my queerness is my asset, that I should never deny it.
I learned how to listen, how to receive and how to give.
I learned that there are worlds unknown to us, which we will never know, but they influence us and we need to trust.
I am still learning from flowers. They say you need to learn a lesson, what is it, 22 times? And then once you do you truly learn it well enough to not do it again. Sometimes, when we are so deeply stuck in a pattern, it feels impossible to see the beginning stages, when you are about to repeat it. Hindsight is 20/20, they say.
With California and much of the west coast in an extreme state of drought, wildflowers don’t bloom as freely anymore. The antelope valley poppy reserve has not produced fields of poppies the last couple of years, not the way it used to. The mojave desert superblooms are nothing like what they used to be, I’m told by longtime desert residents.
So for me, making and working with flower essences, and sharing them with others, is an act of honoring our dry earth in these devastating times of climate collapse. To capture the essence of a flower is to preserve it. To keep it’s story vital and alive in times in which mass extinction will bring the loss of thousands of plant and animal species.