Plant Allies for Ancestral Healing
I remember sitting alone as a kid, with my well-loved books on working with herbs open in front of me, and feeling like I was being gathered up not just by the stories of the plants themselves, but by something else alongside the green wisdom I was so eager for. I couldn't tell you what half the ingredients were in the botanical skincare book I was reading or yet identify a Peppermint (Mentha piperita) plant from a Sage (Salvia officinalis) from my gardening book, but I could tell that this feeling of being held was a good thing, a needed thing, a healing thing. I now reflect on these moments, where I experienced respite from the loneliness that can haunt strange kids, and recognize my ancestors drawing near and sheltering my curiosity of my plant kin so that it might grow into the life I live now. The books I was reading weren't full of ancestral magick (except for the occasional mention of "ancient people believed this plant to protect against lightning"), but reciting the names of plants worked like a spell, calling forth my ancient people, who understand the power of knowing a plant's name.
While I feel fortunate to have been introduced to working with ancestors as a path of healing early on in my life, I am fascinated and filled with hope by the ways that modern therapeutic practice is embracing the need to heal our ancestral lines, whether we call it epigenetics, inherited trauma or that story our great grandma used to tell. Of course, healing the ancestral line is not a new practice - this is an old path of healing, that some of us have been lucky enough to be raised in and others of us are getting to experience through renewed traditions. It makes my work as an herbalist easier, too, when folks come to me with some familiarity to the idea that the fears and anxieties their ancestors felt, especially from big traumatic experiences, have shaped all of us in all sorts of ways.
Before I was ever introduced to the concept of inherited trauma and epigenetics, however, I understood that some of the plants I was using today had been used by some of my ancestors for hundreds of years, and while I couldn't, as a child, give you a complex explanation of what that meant, I knew it was meaningful. While there is healing that takes place on a physical level through mediums like surgical interventions, appropriate medication, the tending of wounds, the healing that takes place on an emotional and mental level needs, amongst other things, meaning. It is meaningful, even if we don't know our ancestors' names, speak their language or have been offered any of their stories, to work with plants that our ancestors would recognize and feel at home with.
Working with plants has always felt like ancestral practice because I started working with herbs as a way to reclaim and reconnect with the ways my ancestors. When I began practicing as an herbalist, and especially when I started working with other people of the global majority, especially mixed folks like myself, ancestral work and healing became increasingly centered in my work. For me, ancestral plant work starts with honoring plants as our ancestors - plants having watched our species evolve - so that every cup of tea can be a way of acknowledging the presence of and welcoming our ancestors in. One of the simplest ways to start an ancestral healing practice is to set out a cup of tea for your ancestors, inviting them in to enjoy it with you, every time you make a cup for yourself.
If you are interested in developing an ancestral healing practice with plants as your allies, the following suggestions come from the plants themselves, my own experiences, and from plant folk who've shared them with me. I share them with you now in hopes of inspiring your own ancestral healing practice, as well as supporting the ancestral healing work of the communities you serve.
Work with ancient plants as your ancestors
If you feel called to honor plants as ancestral spirits, you can work with ancient plants. A few years ago I was in a particularly hard stretch of examining, trying to name, as well as make sense of some of my family’s inherited trauma. I held a complex pain as I sat with these stories of knowing they were incomplete, that I didn’t know many of my ancestor’s names or where even where they came from. I had started working with Rose (Rosa spp.) daily around this time and at one point felt a very clear sense of Rose as ancestor, helping to fill in those gaps of knowledge with their gentle wisdom. I later learned that Rose is an ancient plant species, having been around for millions of years before our modern human species. This experience with Rose changed my relationship with plants within ancestral healing as not just herbs that our ancestors used, but as ancestors themselves, having evolved before and with us as a species.
I consider ancient plants to be species that we know have been with us for millions of years or plants that are particularly long-lived. Ancient plants include Rose (Rosa spp.) and Ginkgo (Ginkgo biloba) both of which you can work with as ancestor spirits to help you connect with your own ancestral line. There is something powerful about sitting in deep reverence with a plant like Rose who has watched us grow and evolve as a species. You're essentially connecting with Rose as the Mighty Dead in order to seek out your known and unknown Beloved Dead. Long-lived trees like Oak (Quercus spp.), Yew (Taxus spp.), and Redwoods (Sequoia spp.) are also good options as well as the ancient plants of folklore such as Mugwort (Artemisia spp.) which is known as the oldest of herbs in Anglo-Saxon lore.
Working with ancient plants can include using them internally (i.e. teas, tinctures, food, and so on) and externally (i.e. baths, incense, herbal oils, and so on), creating altars, charms, and talismans featuring your ancient plant ally, writing poetry, creating art, journaling with them, dancing and singing with them, and whatever else you're called to do. As I mentioned in the introduction, you can leave out a cup of tea for your ancestors whenever you make one for yourself as a way to invite your ancestors into your home, your practice, and to offer them to participate in healing your ancestral lines (or just have a bit of a chat). You can make this into a deeper practice, by choosing to do this everyday, combined with some sort of meditative activity, for a few days to a full cycle of the Moon.
What I love about working with plants as ancestors is that it helps those of us who do not have direct connection with our ancestral lines or complicated ancestors who we are struggling to connect with, to still work with ancestral healing. Working with ancient plants is a wonderful community practice, especially when working with a group of folks from a mix of ethnicities.
Work with plants within your heritage
Another way to approach ancestral healing work is to work with plants that you either know for certain or can make an informed guess that your (cultural, ethnic, and/or spiritual) ancestors used. This idea is part of many modern Pagan traditions which encourage practitioners to connect with their ancestors through plants, places, food, songs, and anything that would be familiar to their ancient people. Where this idea of ancestral plants for present-day healing really became centered for me was when I was during my training as a doula (birth labor assistant) and my teacher spoke to the healing that can happen when you use foods and herbs with your pregnant client that would be familiar to their genetic line. She spoke of it as a way to help a birthing person connect with the lineage and strength of birthing people before them through inviting ancestors in through the food and herbs they eat during pregnancy. It is a view of healing I've carried with me throughout my herbal practice.
Besides explicit exploration of your own or a client's ancestral and plant medicine heritage, if I have a few similar plants that I am considering offering to a client, sometimes I end up choosing one that is an ancestral plant for them. I've seen a lot of magick happen between plant and person when the story of how this plant has been working with their family and cultural line for generations is finally able to be told and heard. Reintroducing Turmeric (Curcuma longa) to someone as not just a plant they saw their dad cooking with as a child, but a plant with deep-rooted ancestral meaning can be powerful stuff. Working with plants that your ancestors would've known can be one of the ways of addressing epigenetic trauma as you're partaking in a medicine that is familiar to your body and the bodies of (at least some of) your ancestors on a genetic level.
Work with trance plants
You can also work with plants that help to induce transcendent states to help you connect with your ancestors more directly. I'm not speaking about entheogenic plants, but herbs that are often classified as dream plants in traditional western herbal and magickal tradition. Plants like Mugwort (Artemisia vulgaris) and Yarrow (Achillea millefolium) are good options. For example, I use Mugwort to help bring about dreams where I connect with my ancestors or to deepen my meditation, divination, and/or trancework practice where connecting to my ancestors is the goal. I do think that these herbs work best when you already have a meditation and/or trancework practice already in place and if you're looking to develop either or those, breathwork is a good place to start.
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I hope you've found some inspiration for your ancestral healing practice. To be perfectly honest, it doesn't matter what plants you are working with - I think the most powerful way of working with plants in ancestral work is to view them as partners in calling in and making space for your ancestors.
If you're looking for more inspiration for developing a herbal healing practice, come this way. You can also peruse my collection of plant profiles to see if one speaks to your ancestral line. If you want to not only connect with your ancestors but your ancient self, I have a tarot spread for that. And if you want a classic, Samhain-inspired ancestor reading, I have a tarot spread for that, too. If you’re looking for a collection of Moon-centered rituals to support your ancestral practice, check out The Moonfolk Book of Shadows.
May your explorations of ancestral healing bear fruit while healing your roots.
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