When’s I speak of love I don’t mean a gushy mushy kind of love. I refer to a deeper more primal kind of love. A love that in my experience of it defies words. It’s a feeling that is in your whole being. A love that can transform you.
That’s the kind of love I get from plants. It is a solid strong enduring feeling. One that infuses my spiritual essence with energy and vitality. How do I access this kind of love?
I pick a plant. I grow several houseplants in my ritual room for this very purpose. Then I meditate on the plant. I change the rhythm of my breathing to a slower pace. I let my vision lose focus and become blurry. If I really want a deep experience I will drum and chant “Awen” until I’m in a trance. That’s the point when things get interesting.
With my vision blurred I become aware of a light surrounding the plant. The plant’s aura I suppose. Each plant I work with has a different color of light emanating from it. And once I’ve seen that light I place my hands up to the plant in a cup fashion. I can feel the energy. I can sense it with my hands. For me it is a tingling sensation. This tingling travels up my arms until I can feel it throughout my body. It mixes with my own energy. It changes the color of my aura as well. This energy is what I call love.
I bask in the glow of this energy for a time. I let myself soak up the feeling of solidity it affords me. I find that each of my plants offers me distinctly different experiences. And plants like trees that are even more solid are another type of energy. The accessing of these energies grounds and centers me to the wonders of nature. And it is always a sacred experience. I find peace and harmony. I find myself. I find love.