When you surround yourself with heavy course loads, it’s easy to miss the natural medicine that flourishes among us.

It was in the midst of my own stress that I found the newly published book Plant Teachings From My Auntie, “A Snuneymuxw ethnobotany guide grounded in Indigenous knowledge and deep ancestral connection to the land”.

The book includes picture identification, traditional knowledge for dozens of Coast Salish plants, their cultural values, and more. It is written by respected Snuneymuxw Matriarch, Elder, and Traditional Knowledge Keeper, C’tasi:a, and ethnobiologist Dr. Nancy J. Turner—with the help of Dr. Ellen White, Kwulasulwut.

Whilst I work and live on the unceded territory of Snuneymuxw First Nations, I found it difficult to engage with the land, and without the help of C’tasi:a, I never would have realized how disconnected from the land I really was.

Curious how these teachings will help me as a burnt-out student, I meet with C’tasi:a and take an exploratory walk through the Morell Nature Sanctuary. 

Settling down at The Bee’s Knees Cafe with C’tasi:a, we quickly get into a conversation about stress caused by university curricula. C’tasi:a sympathizes when I go on a slight tangent about my worries about schoolwork, schedule management, and the slight existential dread seen amongst students at Vancouver Island University (VIU).

She tells me a story of how she guided her granddaughter through a university exam. C’tasi:a’s granddaughter was going through a rough period and came to C’tasi:a for mentorship. She holds my hand in hers, and reiterates what she told her granddaughter.

“You must have faith in your hand … because your hand will be guiding the pen when [an important test day] comes, and your hand will be the one to guide you through it.”

Reorganizing my thoughts, I ask her if education and connection with your physical and spiritual self go hand in hand. 

She stresses the importance of grounding the physical body to the spirit. The hands are not only a projection of the soul, but also a guide to expression and creation.

I sat there for a moment, pondering on how I’d never considered thanking my hands before. They must have gone through a lot. 

I ask her how she has collected all this knowledge over the years, and she tells me how all practices, including learning Indigenous plant culture, revolve around a common factor—curiosity. 

C’tasi:a’s curiosity was encouraged by her Auntie Dr. Ellen White, Kwulasulwut, and now she sparks the same curiosity in me. Likely sensing my juvenile first attempt to expand myself, C’tasi:a explains to me that growth is a process, beginning with maintaining a good spirit and thanking the Creator. 

After the pleasant conversation with C’tasi:a, the very next week I set foot on an adventure with my partner, Trevor, hoping to de-escalate from our studies and engage with the natural environment right beside campus—Morell Nature Sanctuary. 

Just behind the VIU campus, beyond the crosswalk on the Trans Highway, a shortcut to Morell Nature Sanctuary lies close beside College Dr., past a couple of metal gates. The commute took me less than 10 minutes.

I recall Auntie Ellen’s protocols mentioned in the book as I observed the landscape around me.

“Auntie [Ellen] would say it begins the night before, preparing body, spirit, and mind as one. Connect to the energy by focusing on the path that leads to the fresh water. Carry a song and prayer that introduces you to the community of trees, especially the grandmother cedar tree,” C’tasi:a says. 

For the first time in my life, I bend down and speak to the ferns and trees. As the one-way conversation carries on, it almost seems as if the plant life can understand me. 

Leaving the small VIU classrooms and returning to nature’s giant stadium didn’t feel like much at first, but as my shoes track across a clump of fallen leaves with a loud crunch, I feel unburdened and warm inside.

The slight existential dread I seemed to carry over the day felt lighter. I take my hand and feel the touch of a few oak ferns. A fall breeze glazes my cheek, along with a few autumn leaves landing gently before my shoes. A few dispersed arbutus trees carve the path and lead us onwards. 

I remembered C’tasi:a’s words as I observed the landscape around me:

“As you walk, engage with the land and nature around you.”  

We hike across Alder Trail, hoping to find a few protected plants. Seemingly repetitive greenery holds a chokehold on most of the soil, with the same repetitive spurs of invasive dandelions, burdocks, and bushes of Himalayan blackberries fencing any other species from sharing nutrients. 

Circling and heading back down the west side of Morell Lake, Trevor stops behind me, and I realize we’ve found our first native plant—a couple of stalks of wild celery! Known as “q’uxmin or g’uxmin,” it is a native herbaceous plant with “clustered, blueish-green leaves … and small and bright yellow flowers.”

As I observe the stalk, C’tasi:a’s instructions from the book pop into my head.”

“After introducing yourself to the plant, you should always pray, thank the plant, and explain its purpose and offer offerings before you harvest,” she says.

Before a sea of weeds and dandelions, these couple stalks of wild celery stood with spirits tall and mighty—its bright yellow flowers had withered into bulbs of beige with a yellow-red hue, and its blueish-green leaves shrivelling, wilting away. 

Wild celery has an important role in Coast Salish traditions for medicine and ceremony; the leaves can be used to cure coughs and colds, as a food source, and it is also traditionally used as incense.

Faint sounds of a few duck quacks are heard in the near distance. I ask the stalk if it is in preparation for the upcoming cold season, and if it will still remain here by the spring. The stalk stares back.

With extensive research and preparation, my original plan consists of harvesting a native plant to use for herbal teas, but seeing only specks of Coast Salish plants amongst a sea of other life makes me reconsider my choices.

A ways down the Rocky Knoll trail, I find an area of skunk cabbages (ts’a’kw’a or tsaqua’). 

The book describes these plants as a convenient holder for mashed berries, and through extensive drying, they could eventually be rolled into a preserve, similar to Fruit Roll-Ups. 

Despite being out of season, the flowering perennial plant stands strong, ready to bloom over the winter. 

I ask the batches of skunk cabbages if they’re prepared for winter and if they need help. Gusts of autumn breeze blow again, and the leaves sway left and right. I move along with Trevor, our chit-chat and laughter muffled by the rustling forest.

Stepping foot outside and into the sanctuary brought us a strong sense of accomplishment.

The sky has almost gone dark, and my legs are already sore, but the simple connection with nature was enough to keep us exhilarated.

The sun sets behind us as I bid farewell to Morell Nature Sanctuary. The mud tracks on my boots are the only souvenir I carry from our walk. A few scattered crows soar across the evening sky.

We walk back to campus, our shadows reflecting behind us, eventually merging amongst the shadows of trees and rural architecture.

A few days after the walk, I asked Trevor how he felt about the trip.

“It was really nice. I haven’t gone for a walk in nature like that for a long time.”

He expresses that technology’s impact on our generation has shielded us from the benefits nature provides—and it suddenly reminded me of C’tasi:a’s early journey as a knowledge keeper, how she had “hours of sitting and walking alongside dear Auntie Ellen … sharing the vital importance of the plant world within the mountains and forests, along the riverbanks, and in the ocean.”

I then ask Trevor if curiosity plays a role in reuniting us with nature; he agrees.

“Making students curious about nature is a fantastic way of keeping our environment safe … It’s one of the rare places where there’s nothing else going on, we can just stop and be one with the world around us.”

Hearing their words connected something in my brain, and that is when I realized—by grounding the body and the spirit, you may be able to learn a few things around you.

If you do ever feel stuck, maybe look for a copy of Plant Teachings From My Auntie on shelves or online.

Or, simply take a walk in nature.

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