Written by Meghan Rhodes MCPP MAPA
I remember when I first started learning about herbal medicine in earnest. I went on a series of seasonal workshops, so had a brilliant in person, hands-on introduction, and was absolutely buzzing. I went home and immediately began hunting down more resources, trying to gather as much information as I could to learn as much as I could as quickly as possible.
I was hungry for knowledge. I was ravenous with wanting herbalism to become fully woven into my daily life.
But when I first started, I didn't know the longstanding reputable herbal authors from the more, shall we say, bookshelf fillers. I didn't have a herb garden or know where to go foraging living in my tiny pocket of London at the time, which also meant I didn't really have a lot of access to the herbs, themselves.
I hadn't been in the countryside much and didn't have a lot of experience tuning into the seasons.
I signed up to nearly every mailing list of herbal recipes and fact cards I could find, diligently reading and filing them in my inbox.
The thing is herbalism is so vast and rich, so much a part of life, it's not always clear or easy to find a point of entry. And it's so exciting and awe inspiring, it's something that - once you discover it - you want to completely immerse yourself in.
So I dove in and started enthusiastically treading water, because I didn't really have a sense of where I was going, where I could go or how to get there.
Does it matter? Not really. Would I change all that unbridled enthusiasm going back? Never.
But what made the biggest impact on my journey was that initial starting point - those workshops. Then swim round enthusiastically until I came upon the next touchpoint of significant knowledge and experience. Then the next, and so on.
Those key steps gave my journey focus and refined it, but I never would have reached any of them had I not started on a weekend on a farm in spring.