Sitting with Dandelion: Rooted Wisdom

I think I’ve ‘officially’ been on my journey of studying herbalism for 5 years now (not counting what I learned/experienced from plants during the younger part of childhood). Whilst I was pregnant with my youngest, I took the Heartwood Foundation course in Herbal Medicine, with aspirations of progressing onto the Professional Course in the future. Whilst this isn’t something I’ve ruled out, I keep coming back to it unsure on how to make both the time and financial commitments it entails fit into my life. But never say never!

However, for the last year I’ve been studying Astro-Herbalism with The School of Evolutionary Herbalism, and this teaching style is a lot more up my street. The idea of trying to make herbalism fit an allopathic model always grated somewhat with me, and exploring things like taste, energetics and actually engaging in a sort of communication with the plant itself is what I find far more interesting.

I started doing ‘plant sits’ last year. To me, this looks like (ideally) going out into nature and sitting with the plant where it grows, going into a meditative state and connecting with the plant’s particular energy. Maybe asking if I can take a piece for closer observation and/or tasting later on. Essentially, just remembering to hang out with plants and notice what they have to ‘say’, like I did when I was a kid and there was less shit going on in the world that I had to personally deal with.

Sitting with Dandelion

Firstly, I was wandering around the garden looking for a plant to sit with. Dandelion popped up to me first, but my mind got in the way, trying to think of things like Lavender, Lemon Balm, Rosemary…nope. Dandelion was insistent. Ok then, this meant I got to sit on the lawn in the middle of the day, so I’ll take that.

I’d really recommend for anyone interested in herbalism to sit with plants themselves, and see what comes up. Here I’m listing what came up for me, but this is kinda personalised wisdom which I feel plants can do on an energetic level as well as a physical/medicinal one. So if you sit with Dandelion, it might tell you different things to what it told me.

Anyway, here’s what Dandelion shared:

• The need to recognise abundance in all its forms. As a natural ‘problem-solver’, I can have the tendency to over-focus on the issues or the ‘negatives’, which means sometimes I can overlook the blessings which might be right in front of me!
• The interconnectedness of life. So many dandelions out there, not worrying about whether their individual contribution to society is ‘enough’, or whether they should be doing things differently. They just follow their potential, the blueprint inside them from a seed, and grow the best they can. And in doing this, they remain strongest as a collective.
• To really connect with the earth more. Not just ‘going into nature’ and sitting out, but sitting ON the earth. To take on the viewpoint of Dandelion, and really get low down to ground level.
• To wait for the right moments. It might seem right now like nothing is happening, but it might not be the same under the surface. Sometimes it will seem like things are stagnating, which is then followed by a sudden rush of energy – and we go from seemingly nothing happening/changing to lots of things in a quick timeframe.
• To continue to prioritise healthy habits, things that nourish me, and bring me closer aligned to my OWN path.
• Dandelion acknowledges that there is a shadow side, but doesn’t focus on it. To me, it feels positive and optimistic, but balances interconnectedness with personal boundaries.
• Dandelion is showing us resilience. It will always pop back up, often stronger. It builds from the roots first, to nourish.
• Talking about the roots, it’s also teaching us to look beneath the surface – there’s a lot of wisdom and gifts there waiting to be unearthed.
• Finally, Dandelion shows us polarities – some people will naturally ‘gel’ with you, whilst others grate against you. It reminds me of the saying ‘you can’t please everyone’.

I feel like Dandelion had a lot to say for what’s been stirring in my own life lately, and it’s a reminder that the plants we’re drawn to often mirror back what we most need. I’m sure I’ll come back to this little yellow teacher again. And really, that’s the beauty of this kind of work — it’s not about rushing to collect knowledge, but about deepening relationships over time. Trusting that even when it feels like nothing much is happening, the roots are growing all the same.