When I was first asking Nature to show me Her shamanic ways while I was teaching at the Nova Scotia College of Art and Design--doing what I thought of as "going to
Nature School"--a student gave me a small twist of dried plant and said it was
sweetgrass. I searched in wild places
until I found what I thought was more. I
braided and dried it, prayed to it and with it, hoarded its preciousness in my
untutored ceremonies until all that remained was a small twist.
One day I shyly unwrapped it for a First
Nations friend who said he had never seen swamp wire grass treated so
reverently and asked, “Is this plant a spirit ally of yours?”
At first I felt ashamed
for my ignorance, and then I felt shamed before the plant. Did not the sunshine and rain fall on one as
much as on the other? How could I now
devalue what I had so honoured?
“Yes,” I said, “this is my
teacher.” This has been my relationship
with nature ever since. No one creature
is better than another. Each one is the
perfect teacher of its unique qualities.
