In my years of practicing totemism, I’ve noticed that it is much easier for we human animals to connect to other animal beings. And we are especially biased toward those animals that more resemble us—mid-sized, erring on the side of larger, mammals, very often carnivores or omnivores. If we deviate much, it’s usually to birds, our living dinosaurs. Reptiles and amphibians are rarer, and if you want to get into the downright exotic work with a fish or an invertebrate. (Rather sad that the greater portion of animal life forms in the world can be boiled down to the one word “invertebrate” in this case.)
"Dryad" - photo of Douglas Fir log by Lupa, 2012
But animals are not the only, or even the most numerous, living beings on the planet. Plants outnumber us, and represent an entirely different lineage (other than the very earliest sparks of life from whence we all came). The biology of a plant is very different from our own in every aspect, from how they gain nutrition to their manner of reproduction, and even the molecules they absorb from the air. Perhaps it is this seemingly alien nature that makes it harder for us to relate.
And perhaps it’s because we take them for granted, too, that fewer of us work with plants as totems, as opposed to a few dried herbs in a spell or magical pouch. Plants are all around us. We can see them, plant them, even destroy them with relative ease (kudzu not withstanding). But animals—those are more fleeting, especially those in the wild, and moreso those larger, shyer beings that can only be seen in their territory if we take ourselves far away from our own. Even professional nature documentaries are made of the tiny fraction of the camera crew’s entire time and film—most of it is waiting, and traveling, and too-brief glimpses.
So we focus on the lions in the savannah, and ignore the grasses and trees where they lie in wait for their prey. We hike in the forests in search of wild birds to photograph and count, but the canopies in which they sing and nest are often given little notice. And in the same way we overlook the totems of plant species while working with the animals. Who ever talks to the totemic White Sagebrush while smudging with the pungent dried leaves of one individual plant? And what of Douglas Fir, whose children line the Columbia River Gorge and further? And what of the totems of cooking herbs, and garden plants, all of which we rely on to live?
Pacific Trillium. Photo by Lupa, 2012.
But I am more and more an adherent of bioregional totemism, which takes totems in context, just as animals exist in an environment that is just as much alive as we are. And so while a lot of what work I have done with plant totems is still quiet and personal and not ready to share yet, I have been taking the time to extend my own awareness and cooperation beyond those of flesh, bone, eyes, and the intake of oxygen.
This caught my attention. I’ve been aware of different energies in plants but never tried to really communicate with them before. I could tell I was about to walk past something particularly energetic- like Jimson Weed (aka Datura)- but other than that, not much. I’m thinking that perhaps I should be taking a closer look.
I think it sometimes takes some of the more “vivid” plants to really get us to notice them as more than backdrop. Good luck with your explorations!
Wonderful–thanks Lupa. This covers a lot of my own concerns and interests as well. I’m very much an advanced beginner when it comes to identifying local plants (and animals), but I’ve gotten to the point that it really bugs me when I see something and don’t know what it is and why it’s there. I tend to find myself really drawn to the very ordinary little green ones, too, instead of the big flashy plants–the weedy guys that pop up all over in the spring, etc.
I need to start re-reading my field guides again; I got to know the flora in my midwestern hometown really well, but have been lax in getting to know the ones here in the NW.
This act, addressed to the oak in general, and a particular oak in particular, is the entirety of my religion, so…right on.
Glad it spoke to you
White Oak was a constant presence in the midwest where I grew up, and I want to visit the last remaining oak savannahs here in Oregon.
Thanks for this. I find it especially interesting because for me, animals are much harder to relate to than plants, and I feel an incredibly strong connection to specific plants (like the much-maligned Dandelion).
In the past few years of (extremely informal) shamanic inquiry I, too, have come to feel the most powerful interactions are with the beings in my own back yard–literally. I’m always excited when I hear from someone who is likewise interested in forming sacred partnership with the plants (and animals, and other entities) present locally.
*nods* I have some totems that are the Big, Impressive North American Birds and Mammals, but especially since moving to the Pacific Northwest, I’ve gained a greater appreciation for those who are right here with me. It says something that this is the first place I really wanted to connect to on that deep a level–not that other places haven’t been sacred, but this one is special.
Ah, you touched on one of my mycophilic buttons with this piece… my most beloved are neither plant nor animal, so I am very aware of the characteristically homonid preoccupation with other animal-folk!
My practice is a bit different, being purely animistic & not involved in Shamanism/Totemism, but I appreciate your observations about how we humans can get a wee bit myopic sometimes. I suffer from a sort of fungi-focus (particularly in the Fall) & certainly find myself missing messages from other beings in the neighborhood… but I am working on that. Thanks for the reminder.
I need to get to know the local fungi more than I do. This includes the mold that occasionally finds its way into the kitchen if something’s set in the fridge too long, but also the elusive morels that popped up seemingly at random in some mulch near my home. They often get lumped in with “plants”, but they really are their own beings!
I’ve actually been trying to practice this lately — trying to communicate with plants and such. It’s very calming, and well worth a try to learn from these wonderful beings
That ‘calming” is something I definitely see, too. We’re so used to being on the move as animals that we forget that a huge proportion of the living beings never leave their space in their entire lives. It must be strange for potted plants that move from one place to the next.
Well, some of us know our personal rhizome roots, Fern adds coyly.
This made me joyous!
This makes me want to write an essay on spiritual interactions with poison ivy. Not that I’ve explored that yet (and I should!), but it is definitely my shadow plant totem!
I think I have such an adverse physical reaction to poison oak that I don’t think to actually learn from it (other than “don’t go hiking in shorts!”) But I should pay attention on more than just the physical level; there’s definitely something in there other than contact dermatitis.
I’m another person that actually finds plants easier to commune with than wild animals. They don’t run away when you approach them!
I’m also interested in not only the spirits of wild native plants around here, and the wild plants my ancestors revered in Europe, but what about domestic plants? The Botany of Desire by Michael Pollan really got me thinking about this, though I’ve been a gardener most of my life, so that helps as well.
I need to read that book; I have a copy, just haven’t sat down to read it yet.
One of my favorite allies out in the garden is Tomato. I have so much sustainability tied in with its children; it’s what prompted me to learn canning, making more things from scratch, and other good food techniques that I never learned growing up
Great entry; thanks. I think this applies to those of us working with flower essences and essential oils, too. Anything, really, that flowers and plants come through to share…..they take their own transformative journey, from one form to another-even if at the hands of humans, it’s alchemy.
Also, the plants are not ‘what we call them’; they embody an energy and phenomena. Field guides are awesome; I don’t know how to identify most plants, yet, the connection with their individual energy signatures (as perceived in a given time) is there, or can be, for me. Relationship with the consciousness/phenomena is, naming it comes next, for usefulness and human safety.
Thanks for your writings!