It’s a crisp Autumn day in early October, and our sweet potatoes in the wild backyard garden are ripe for the pickin’. This is a special moment for me as a newly initiated gardener; my partner and I go out in the yard with a pitchfork and some shears. I’m barefoot in my brand new booty shorts, feeling natural in this rural setting. Despite the cars driving by, we find peace in this cultivated space of abundant harvest. The garden has been lovingly tended to for three years. The soil is rich and still improving. No fence surrounds this blessed space, yet for some reason deer do not forage here. Spiders, ants, grasshoppers, bees rummage around the garden, bringing us joy with their unique presence. A newly dug pond nearby is filling with water. Miracles are everywhere. Sweet potatoes are one of them.
We take our time cutting the vines and placing them in neat piles. Later we will harvest the tender leaves for cooking and pickling. The dark green vines and leaves with red stems traverse across the landscape, extending outward from central nodes of roots planted in several beds. What gorgeous groundcover this greenery has supplied for natural weed suppression and habitat. Some of the vines even have flowers on them; beautiful, lavender trumpets about 2 inches in length stand out amongst the foliage. Feeling inspired, I go inside and grab a crystal bowl, smudge it with sage, and fill it with purified water. I ask for permission from the sweet potato vine, then pluck one, two, three, four, five, six flowers (six feels like the right amount) and place them gingerly in the water bowl. Giving the bowl some distance from our harvesting frenzy, I place it near the pond on some grass where it can absorb the essence of the sweet potato flower’s medicine. I’m not yet sure exactly what that medicine is, but I’m sure it will tell me when it’s time.
The day continues. I have a few afternoon calls, one for therapy, and a couple for work. I’m flowing peacefully through my responsibilities, acquiescing to the dynamic nature of my day. When the time comes to retire from proposal writing and project management, I take a walk down the country road on which I live. Cars drive by with varying speeds and intensities. Different people on different schedules, living different dreams at different degrees of consciousness. It’s beautiful on many levels, despite my sensitive nervous system cringing at the sound of motors, the stark juxtaposition of a car’s speed against the peaceful stillness of forest edges. People everywhere, on the move, being still, sleeping, awake, happy, distressed. They used to bother me. Now I’m learning to love them, as I’m learning to love myself.
It’s the difference in mindset between the “old” and the “new” me that strikes my curious attention on this evening walk. My heart is open; still opening. My mind is calm, my breathing is slowed, my emotions are equanimous. Even my sense of “I” has changed to something more expansive, inclusive, mysterious, diffuse. The slight cold on my bare back as I walk in my cotton pants and halter top does not bother me, though in the past it might have driven me home. Everything is quite perfect as it is, despite a throbbing ear and strange appetite, despite the cars and the noise, I am okay — in fact, I am amazing.
Skip, skip, walk, run, skip, run, walk: I’m home again, always a lovely feeling. It’s time to harvest that sweet potato flower essence. I grab a mason jar from inside, smudge it with sage to cleanse any old energies, and sit on the soft grass behind the crystal bowl full of water and purple flowers. The water has been absorbing the energy of the flowers all day, and soaking up the subdued, overcast sunshine. This moment — harvesting sweet potatoes, transitioning into colder weather, being content with life as it is, enjoying nature even amongst some noise and distractions — has been captured in time with this essence. The flowers themselves are harbingers of healing. To understand what this essence will offer those who use it, I simply ask: what is your message? Support. Guidance. Exploration. Home. Peace. These are the words I hear, clearly and calmly, in response to my inquiry. I smile sweetly, thank the flowers for their medicine, pour the water into the mason jar, cover the water with a splash of brandy, and offer the six lavender flowers to the pond along with a short prayer.
Inside, sweet potatoes cure in the oven with the light on, where they will stay for the next seven days. The sun has gone down in the sleepy sky, and I pour sweet potato flower essence into amber glass bottles to share with my housemates. This experience of connecting with the sweet potato plant made another ordinary day something special. Life really can be simple. Joy can be, too.
Ethereal Ecology 