Responsibility: A Raw Reflection on Plant Medicine
What It Gave Me — And What I Had to Learn the Hard Way
Plant medicine came into my life as both a blessing and a mirror.
Not something I chased — but something that arrived. With reverence. With timing. With the quiet whisper that something in me was ready to remember.
And while I’ve witnessed its beauty — its undeniable power to awaken, unravel, and renew — I’ve also walked through its shadow. The confusion, the overwhelm, the misalignment that can happen when it’s not held with care.
This isn’t a guidebook.
It’s just my truth — shared in case it speaks to yours.
The Sacred Invitation
For me, the path of plant medicine didn’t start with ceremony.
It started with longing.
To feel more. To heal what had been buried. To come back to a kind of inner knowing that the world had dulled.
The medicine met me with grace. It reflected truths I hadn’t yet dared to say out loud. It cracked open parts of me I had forgotten. It showed me how to come back into relationship with the Earth, with spirit, with my own voice.
This path didn’t hand me answers.
It showed me how to listen for them.
When the Medicine Didn’t Land
There were also times it didn’t work.
Not because the plants weren’t wise — but because I wasn’t ready, or the space wasn’t safe.
I’ve had ceremonies where the medicine amplified my emotions, but didn’t offer resolution. Where I felt cracked open but couldn’t find my way back. Where integration never came. Where I left with more confusion than clarity.
In hindsight, it wasn’t the medicine itself — it was the lack of support, the rush, or my own internal resistance.
There is a razor-thin edge between revelation and disorientation. Between healing and harm. And without grounding, guidance, and integration, the experience can leave you more fragmented than whole.
The Subtle Lessons
Some of what I had to learn didn’t come in ceremony — it came after:
How to self-regulate when the waves came back months later.
How to honour my own pace and not compare my journey to others.
How to set boundaries, especially with myself.
How to recognize when I was bypassing grief with grand insights.
How to stay with myself, even when I was unraveling.
The medicine will meet you where you are — but you still have to walk the road.
The Voice I Found Along the Way
As a woman, I carried unspoken stories — of pain, of silence, of survival.
For a long time, my mind led the way. Smart, sharp, discerning — it helped me stay safe.
But real healing only happened when I could fall apart — not into chaos, but into trust. That falling didn’t happen easily. It happened when I felt held — by Spirit, by the land, and eventually, by myself.
I’ve learned that the right space matters.
That whoever holds your ceremony should be someone rooted — not just in experience, but in humility and integrity.
And that medicine isn’t something you do. It’s something you live with.
What I Know Now
This path isn’t for everyone — and even for those who are called, it may not be right now.
Plant medicine can:
Offer clarity that years of therapy can’t reach
Illuminate truth, emotion, memory, and spirit all at once
Reconnect you with a sense of reverence and belonging
But it can also:
Take years to integrate
Overwhelm you if you’re not in a safe or grounded environment
Bring up things you’re not yet equipped to hold
Confuse you if you’re chasing an experience instead of engaging in a relationship with the medicine
You don’t need to be “healed” to begin.
But you do need to be honest — with yourself, with what you’re ready for, and with the intentions you bring.
A Closing Note
I share this not to give advice, but to offer companionship on the path.
To name what often goes unnamed.
To remind anyone walking with the plants that you’re not alone — in the beauty or the mess.
For me, this has never been a trend, or a performance.
It’s been a path of devotion. Of undoing. Of remembering.
If something in this reflection speaks to you, may it guide you toward what’s true for you.
And if you are called to the medicine — may you walk gently, ask good questions, and be met by the healing you were always worthy of.