Sitting quietly beside a plant or flower and asking it, humbly, to share its wisdom is not an easy task. It could be thought the plant may not wish to share anything with a creature who has just picked a significant proportion of itself and has already eaten both a leaf and a flower.
These acts were done mindfully. I would never have dreamed in a million years that these vibrant spring plants with their delicate scent would now be a significant part of my foraged spring salads, nor that I could be considering the garden violet patch as a cherished food source. Such is the power of making a plant your ally!
Sketching the violet flower from different angles forced me to notice many new aspects of colour and proportion. Eating both flower and leaf made me very aware this was a powerful plant which left a lasting impression on my taste buds, mouth and me. Eating joined me with the plant.
I was sitting on the bench underneath the kitchen window looking out onto the garden. On my left, two large hawthorn trees were now in leaf. On my right, forsythia twined a yellow love spray around the flowering cherry. Golden daffodils swayed gently in the afternoon breeze. Sun shone. The only sounds were robins answering boundary calls occasionally interrupted by the harsh caws of pristine rooks from the tallest branches of a neighbouring fir.
I held the vision of the violet flower in my mind and closed my eyes.
As a healer, it is relatively easy to slip into a grounded state which allows energy to flow where it is needed. I could feel energetic spirals on my hands, knowing there were friends who would benefit from this healing force, but what of the violet?
Although I could see the violet flower, it seemed to be the white centre which was important. As if to emphasise the point, a white space became a fluttering butterfly flapping its wings. Then I saw a bunch of violet flowers growing together, upright. This was on the right hand side of my field of inner vision. The bunch then moved to the centre of my view, fanning out into a circle like a hollow vase.
As I studied this brilliant white central core, I could see the curled petals of a chrysanthemum, or was it a tightly furled water lily? No matter, it was the colour which was important. White, the colour from which all other colours come, symbolising purity, innocence, peace, or deep spirituality. A colour to wash away and cleanse whatever was needful.
Violet flooded my vision and I felt my third eye open, pulsing in the middle of my forehead. The brow chakra - a place of intuition, of deep understanding, of being true to yourself.
I could feel the sun warm on my face. Red came, then white again followed by green. Within the green I could see detailed drawings of violet plants, complex, tall and high in the centre of my inner sight. The green transformed to blue and then to turquoise, such a gentle colour. Purple returned followed again by white. I felt the spirals of energy disappear from both my palms and knew the meditation was over.
What had I learned? It was a simple sentence which came to me during the meditation.
“It is violet which takes us to all that we are.”