Gratitude and Gathering THE TOBACCO OFFERING

I walk into the dense shade of the forest, looking, listening and breathing the cool, fragrant air. My gaze takes in this mysterious, verdant world. I am holding a pinch of loose tobacco and asking the Grandmother tree to reveal herself to me. I move slowly, deeper into the woods and then I see a large old Western Red Cedar tree (Thuja plicata). Big, heavy boughs hang down, some touching the ground. She is surrounded by many smaller trees and saplings, her children. I approach and place my hand on the rough bark. Looking up as far as I can, I see her encircling branches reaching the sky. I feel humble and small, dwarfed by her age and wisdom. My eyes are closed as I breathe her scent and tell her that I have come to harvest her boughs. The cedar will enrich the salves and tinctures I create and will also yield purifying smoke. I ask her permission. Then I wait and listen.

She always answers. Once, she said, “No.” I heard that clearly, as if spoken with a human tongue, and left without the expected bounty but knew the wisdom of honoring her answer. Most often, she grants permission and I am deeply aware of that response, too. I scatter the ceremonial tobacco around her trunk, marveling at my place in this transaction. Indeed, even the tobacco has given itself so that I can be here in this way.

In our modern culture, bringing a gift in exchange for a favor is a familiar custom, even if only sometimes followed. In many older and more traditional cultures this practice is held in sacred regard. Bringing an offering to the person you are approaching with a request or who has given you a gift helps maintain balance and honors the giving and taking that is integral to life on Earth. Taking without giving back upsets this equilibrium. Over time the imbalance grows into waves that can be sensed, often in unpleasant ways.

When harvesting plants for medicine, it is vital to approach them as relatives—with intention, respect, and gratitude. Whether I want to dig roots for medicine or gather flowers to brighten my home and my spirit (another form of medicine!) I am asking a big favor of the plant, a living creature. Often, it will be to sacrifice its life for human uses. That is not bad or wrong, but it matters that it’s done in a good way that maintains balance and harmony. This means that I first ask permission and that I bring a gift in exchange. Many traditional cultures practice this custom and I imagine that even my own ancestors in Europe, practiced such sacred reciprocity when going out to harvest their medicinal plants from the forest.

Tobacco originated in the Americas and was used in sacred ceremonies long before Europeans arrived. When I approach a plant and ask for a gift, I most often bring tobacco. Tobacco is said to be “absorbant” and one of my teachers taught me to speak directly to the tobacco as I say my prayers, letting it absorb my words before scattering it on the ground around the plants I intend to harvest. Other good offerings are cedar and water. Cedar is the primary sacred tree of the Pacific Northwest where I live; water is life-giving and takes in our prayers. Sometimes I have sat and simply offered my tears and felt the deep grace of acceptance.

Through the years I have learned I am inter-independent. I would not survive for long without receiving another’s gifts, whether from a human, animal, plant or even from beings we consider inanimate. How do I exist in this cycle in a good way? Knowing that by my very existence I am continually taking, how do I give in equal measure? When these vital questions seem to overwhelm me, I come back to the pinch of tobacco or a tear falling to the ground—and see that the answer is right before me, in every moment.