Week 13 : The Great Unfurling
Return of the Swamp Lantern
Reflection
These late days of March unfurl to the rhythm of the skunk cabbage.
This pungent and unique plant is a teacher of transformation.
With the ability to maintain a constant warmth far exceeding its surroundings, it offers the lesson of emotional self-regulation; the inherent drive toward life that exists regardless of the weather.
Much like the lotus, this swamp lantern is a metaphor for shadow work as it grows out of the mud and decay. Where can we find value and growth in the dark or uncomfortable parts of our psyche?
Its leaves unfurl from a tight and protective bud, this mimics the process of becoming; our continous state of unfolding.
It is also a symbol of rebirth and resilience, with its early appearance in spring, before many other plants have broken their dormancy.
Evidence & Ecology
Lysichiton americanus, also known as skunk cabbage or swamp lantern is often the first bloom to emerge in BC wetlands. Long before buds become visible on the salmonberry or the years growth of sword ferns begin to unwind.
It has the capacity to generate its own heat, to raise its internal temperature, which also melts any surrounding snow and warm its swampy environs - a process called thermogenesis.
This flowering plant cannot be missed or mistaken in the landscape as its heady scent finds your nostrils well before your eyes spy the plant. This chemical cocktail is meant to mimic decaying flesh, which attracts its primary pollinators - carrion flies and beetles - as they emerge and search for warmth and food in the early days of spring.
Its roots pull the plant deeper into the muck as it grows, making these hardy perennials as they anchor firmly into the saturated wetlands. Ensuring the removal of a multi year specimen almost impossible.
Their leaves do not decay as do other neighbouring plants. Instead of their leaf litter becoming withered and dry compost, these leaves liquefy and become incorporated into the soup of their environs; almost as if they never existed.
Occupying a narrow and specific niche, this bold and unique individual realizes its personal role in the ecosystem, inhabiting characteristics that allow the fulfillment of this role.
How do you lean into your own unique gifts? Where is your expertise needed and how do you offer these gifts to the wider community?
How do you acknowledge how and what you contribute? Are you able to derive satisfaction from your distinctive gifts without falling into comparative judgements?
Embodying Practice
Embodied Nature Meditation
Root and Unfurl
Begin by finding a comfortable seated position. Ensure your feet are fully connected to the earth.
Invite yourself to become present in this moment by becoming aware of your breath - the inhalations and exhalations through your nose
Now draw awareness to the bottoms of your feet. Hold that awareness at the point where your feet and the earth beneath you connect……..
Story of Place
A Conversation with the Season
Sacred Utility
The air is still brisk as it whips my face on my entrance to the forest, yet it also holds the promise of spring. Not something you can touch, or even see. A knowing that your body intuits to you. Maybe it’s the way the light tilts now, inching up the sky by degrees, surprising you as you round a corner, directly in your eyes. A moment of blindness. Yet it elicits bliss, and possibly a sneeze. Spring is here and she is arriving at a fast gallop.
This shifting of seasons arrives through all of our senses, with scents drifting on the wind into our olfactory centres the most cheerful and evocative of joyful childhood memories. Hyacinth, lilac, and fresh green grass are what may come to mind when your mind casts back to springtime aromas. But the scent that my “aha it’s spring” moment is triggered by is always the heady aroma of the skunk cabbage.
Not thought of as a pleasant smell by many, its distinctive aroma instills an ear to ear grin in me. Not subtle this plant. Even its arrival is dramatic. A barren spot of viscous soil turns into a shimmering bouquet of olfactory taunting, and the brightness of the sun swimming in mud almost overnight. This early arrival hints at its ability to provide while others are only beginning to unfurl.
This Swamp Lantern isn't pretty in a traditional sense, but its heat and stench are acts of radical service, attracting pollinators in need of a warm place to call home and an early food source to ensure life.
In another instance of sacred reciprocity that the natural world depends on, and weaves into existence, this early food source is available and beckoning with its bright plumage and can’t miss scent to bears upon emergence from hibernation. It provides a kickstart of nutrition, as a rare source of early-season green, and acts as a vital laxative for their digestive system to reset after a long winter of sleep. The plant feeds the bear and the bear moves the seeds. A circle of giving complete….
READ THE FULL ESSAY HERE →
The Invitation
Nature Kinship
Weekly nature connection practices aligned seasonally to engage with your locale. Encouraging immersion, appreciation and spiritual attunement with the more than human world around you.
Always remember to enjoy these practices within the bounds of your physical and ecological limits (do not sit outside when it’s -40, or walk on slippery surfaces), practice “leave no trace” and mindful reciprocity (take only what you need, ask permission from the earth, and only leave what is naturally biodegradable)
The Art Practice
Rooting into Resilience
This practice focuses on the plant’s contractile roots, which pull the plant deeper into the earth each year, making it nearly impossible to uproot.
Begin by gathering a piece of sturdy paper, charcoal or a dark pencil, and watercolours or diluted ink.
Start by drawing the "underground" portion of the plant. Use thick, intentional lines to create a massive root system that takes up at least two-thirds of your page….
A Final Note
Closing Invocation
“We began as mineral. We emerged into plant life, and into the animal state, and then into being human, and always we have forgotten our former states, except in early spring when we slightly recall being green again.”
Singing the Earth
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Nature. Connected.
