Pulling Weeds, Holding Wisdom

I love how plants are Wise Beings holding some many life lessons!

During this moon cycle, violets and dandelions, have been a focal teacher for me. They are like little beacons and my body tuned in like a radio “hearing” the message. 

I play with dandelions in ritual and ceremony, and the next day I’m removing them from my garden since they detract from other desired plants. I’ve felt guilty that I’m doing something “wrong” by pulling out dandelions or violets or creeping Jenny “weeds” when these are also helpful plants for nourishment.

How can I be a Plant Priestess, Green Witch, and aligned with the Green Beings when I’m pulling them out and adding to the compost pile? Seems like a contradiction, doesn’t it? These actions seem out of alignment with each other.

Life is a paradox.

This line of thinking is binary—that if I do one thing, then I can’t do the exact opposite. However, this plays out in my life in many ways and in society too. Life is more fluid, ebbing and flowing. One territory or concept blends into the next. Nature doesn’t seem to have bold lines neatly arranged like a map.

Other areas where the topsy-turvy shows up is: I clean my house to remove soil and plant debris. I put it back outside. While outside, I collect soil and other bits to create a nutrient medium to grow plants in. Wild outside, order inside. I want animals to be treated humanely, and I also eat them. I don’t like fossil fuels being spewed into the atmosphere, and I drive a car.

The paradoxes are many.

So what did I learn from dandelion this cycle?

That holding contradictions doesn’t make me less of a Plant Priestess - it makes me a better one. Dandelion thrives in the cracks, survives the poison, and still offers itself with generosity. It teaches me to root deeply, to bloom where I'm not always wanted, and to trust that nourishment can come from messy, in-between spaces.

The plants are always teaching whether we’re kneeling in reverence or tugging them from the soil. I’m listening, even when I’m holding both the offering and the uprooting

I made some posts and reels about my play time with dandelion right here: Instagram🔗, Facebook 🔗, TikTok 🔗

Let's be like the Dandelion - common, everywhere, resilient, and nourishing.
They’re seen as a modern-day nuisance — and so are we.
We are the Healers who tend what others overlook.

The Witches who reclaim power through plants, ritual, and truth.
The Seekers who ask deeper questions and trust what we feel in our bones.
We are the Priestesses weaving spirit into the everyday.
The Wild Ones who don’t fit in polite boxes.
The Rememberers, tracing the old ways forward.

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We are done with systems that silence, shrink, or shame.
We’re choosing something older, slower, more alive.

✨

We are not in the way.
We are not weak.
Our commonness is not a flaw — it’s a force.

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Dandelions may be dismissed today, but they were once treasured as food, medicine, and magic.

Like them, we’re circling back.

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Back to community care.
Back to nature’s medicine.
Back to relationship and reciprocity with the land.
Forgotten? Ignored? Maybe.
But not eliminated — far from it.

Dandelions exist in abundance, thriving despite chemical warfare.

Their seeds wait quietly beneath the soil, resting until the conditions are right.

I'm inviting you to stir the Cauldron with me—yes, the real one.

Witch Camp is July 31- August 3 
Details are here. 🔗

Join me for Crafting Curious and Mysterious Herbal Potions with the Cauldron, a ritual where no herbal experience is needed and everything from  - wilted petals to emotional leftovers - is welcome.

This isn’t your average potion-making. The cauldron we’ll use has held many brews before. Its belly remembers. It knows how to digest grief, old stories, dried-up herbs, and bits of who we used to be - alchemizing them into something sacred. Its belly is warmed by the fire to nourish the water and herbs within and birth a potion meant for those in the Circle.

Bring your curiosity, your weird herbs, your half-formed thoughts, and whatever’s been haunting you since last solstice. This is witchy group therapy - minus the paperwork. The cauldron will hold it all.