Healing work involves feeling, something many of us don’t or won’t do because it’s too painful. But healing is not all love and light, you know. To truly help someone with their darkness, you have to be able to go into the darkness with them, unafraid.

To feel into nature, to feel into another person, to be a healer, you have to feel it all and be okay with it. You have to allow the deepest self to feel it all, even the hard stuff— the pain of the woods cleared to build those awful condos. The pain of the trees topped and mangled by the so-called arborists who work for the electric company. The pain of the shrubs overhanging my driveway that I myself cut back mindlessly and without their permission. The pain of the dead animal, reduced to a pile of meat in the middle of the interstate at rush hour. The pain of the damaged ecosystem. The pain of my lost father.

You see, the topped tree and I have something in common.

There’s this idea that thankfully seems less prevalent over the last few years, that if you refuse to acknowledge the darkness, it will go away. It doesn’t work. “Love and light” people scare me, because they aren’t genuine. Healing is not all angels and incense and crystals. It’s anger and tears and wounds, too. Drunkenness and despair and ridiculousness. Repression is not healthy. It’s okay to be sad about these things. It’s okay to be angry. It’s okay to feel scared. It takes courage to move through the world feeling it all.

A week or two ago, I heard someone tell a story to illustrate the difference between a rich person and a poor person. Two men go out to a country road and are asked to say what they see. The poor man sees “nothing” but a beautiful landscape, wonderful sunset. The rich man sees McDonald’s. I thought, oh how sad. Surely one doesn’t have to think like that to become wealthy. Surely one can love the earth more than she loves money, and still prosper.

Inspired by Stephen Buhner and his workshop on Sacred Plant Medicine. Thank you Stephen, and your wonderful Taurus Moon.