Deb Soule - The Healing Garden: Herbal Plants for Health and Wellness

In gratitude to the healing
plants, to all the hummingbirds
who span the Americas,
and to the quiet ones who save
seeds and sing the sun up
each morning.

Avena Botanicals, seen from entrance on Mill Street in Rockport, Maine

With respect, I acknowledge that Avena Botanicals herbal apothecary and farm is situated in the homeland of the Wabanaki people (Penobscot, Passamaquoddy, Mikmaq, Maliseet, and Abenaki). For more than fifteen thousand years, Indigenous communities have lived, and still live today, on these ancestral lands. With this acknowledgment I recognize the cruel and devastating legacies of European settlers and colonialism and commit to expanding my understanding of the intersectionality of social, racial, and environmental justice; ecological health; and land rematriation. I stand with people and organizations committed to dismantling racism, patriarchy, and all forms of oppression.

The juvenile ruby-throated hummingbird I found in our greenhouse. Soon after resting with me, this precious bird regained her strength and flew safely into the garden.

This book is more than information about herbs. The words and images are prayers on a page. It is meant to be left open in your garden basket or medicine-making room as you work. The practical information offered here comes from forty-five years of my apprenticing with herbs, of being a humble student of soil, seeds, and plants. I teach, write, and garden as a healing practice for myself and as encouragement for others to create respectful and joyful relationships with plants, trees, and pollinators.

In the garden and in wild places, the plants have been my greatest teachers. They generously offer me inspiration and instruction. Never have plants given up on me, even when people have. Standing on behalf of medicine plants, so that people may know how to grow, prepare, and consciously work with them, is worthy work. For centuries, Black, Brown, and Indigenous people and women worldwide have risked their lives (and still do) to preserve and pass on their plant knowledge. Herbalists, gardeners, and farmers need access to land and clean water, good-quality food, medicine plants, and the tools and skills to serve our communities. There is a lot of work ahead to ensure that the food and health needs of marginalized communities are met in just and equitable ways.

During the writing process, my inner landscape was sculpted by water and wind, fear and courage, confusion and grief, forgiveness and love. Collaborating on this project with photographer Molly Haley, a gifted artist and kind human being, nourished my spirit deeplythank you, dear friend. In May 2019, when Molly arrived to begin photographing, a small hummingbird was recovering in my hand. Throughout our work together, hummingbirds guided and delighted us. Here our respective images and words are woven together like a basket full of medicine plants, carefully gathered and prayed over.

This book is a gesture of gratitude to plants and pollinators, to herbalists and healers throughout time, and to all who are my teachers. As a rural-raised, college-educated, queer, white-identified woman, I acknowledge that what is written here, from my experiences and perspectives, is limited. I apologize if any of my words create hurt or diminish another gardener or herbalists experience.

May the healing plants infuse your heart and hands with their spirit, guidance, and love. May they be medicine for your soul, softening your edges and inspiring you to act in ways that support safety, peace, and harmony for all living beings.

Deb Soule, Spring 2020

Daylilies and valerian flowers growing beneath one of Avenas silver maple trees, with Avenas greenhouse in the background

A sign near the entrance to Avena Botanicals apothecary

Greeting and giving gratitude to the hawthorn trees as I enter the garden

I was a child when my grandmother whispered to me these words, directly transmitted without any explanation. After many years of living and learning, attempting to be a good human being and making repeated mistakes, I find that my grandmother Katherines teachings have begun to infuse my heart and hands. They guide my work as an herbalist, gardener, and teacher. I feel most grounded and humbled when my hands and fingernails are consistently stained brown from soil, when I have had enough quiet time in the garden or woods to center my soul and spirit.

I was taught as a teenager to respectfully approach and address a plant before ever touching or picking the plant. If permission to gather is granted, then leaving a gift, an act of reciprocity and respect, is what follows. At the entrance to Avena Botanicals apothecary is a hand-painted sign that says Reciprocity of Pollination. It is placed intentionally to inspire visitors, students, and staff to pause and contemplate what these words point to: a world that values nature and recognizes how essential pollinators are to life. A balanced world is one rooted in generosity and reciprocity.

Plants are living beings. They are intelligent and communicate in caring and complex ways with all who live in their ecosystem. Cultivating a sense of humility and a feeling of warmth and respect for plants is vital for creating meaningful relationships with them. My grandmother showed me that plants appreciate the effort humans make through the slow, quiet, and regular way she visited various apple trees and spring flowers year after year.